


Dragons of Neptune

by VoxDraconae



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Canonical Character Death (in setting), Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 17:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16836772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoxDraconae/pseuds/VoxDraconae
Summary: Nemo didn't ask to be a Guardian. She doesn't hate it, but it still feels empty. Just as she is giving up on finding answers, a chance encounter far beyond the City makes her wonder if there isn't more to why she was chosen. Or maybe the Traveler is just playing a joke on her. The unusual circumstances surrounding her death and resurrection could wind up playing a vital role in the safety of the City.





	1. Going Home

Entry: March 3rd, year 384 of the City Age.  
First rule of being a Guardian: Don’t go looking for your past. This tells me a handful of things: 1) I have one, 2) others have found them, and 3) it causes nothing but trouble. I wonder how other Guardians go about following that edict. The (w)hole of my past burns inside me, the single greatest question I remember having faced. It’s unfathomable and unknowable.  
  
There are examples where it was inevitable- the Hunter Vanguard, Cayde-6, is rumored to have arisen with his own journals by his side, with his name printed in them (though, in true scientific spirit, how did he know they were his? Perhaps he has taken the identity of a close friend). Anastasia Bray still had an ID badge on her, although I wonder how long it lay there to still be legible. One gets the sense that an impossible amount of time, maybe thousands of years have passed since the Golden Age ended, but then shouldn’t there be fewer ruins? If not for the oral history of the City that detailed its construction, the Collapse might have happened yesterday. Not literally yesterday, metal doesn’t rust that quickly, but I wonder if the Golden Age wasn’t much more recent than we believe. Could the Darkness have consumed everything but Earth in a week? A day?  
  
These Awoken worry me, also. How long does it take for a new subset of humanity to evolve? Although they say all things are possible in the Light of the Traveler, so I assume He must have had some purpose for them.  
  
It seems that all I have are questions. If Ana Bray is right, and we are resurrected more or less similar to ourselves as we were, then it is fitting that I was risen a Warlock- I could not fathom a life without the relentless pursuit of knowledge. Even here, though, there are taboos. Rule number two of being a Guardian: Thanatology is forbidden. I laughed when I first heard it. Carrix made me immortal, and it was one of the first things I thought of, so I wonder how long it takes a new Guardian to think of it, that they bother telling you outright not to do it?  
  
I was not so fortunate as Ana Bray or Cayde-6. My Ghost found me in a ruin on Venus, evidently guarding a door. I remember the room had several corpses in it, little but bones picked clean by the ravages of time. Carrix said he knew it was me because whatever else I had been, in my last moments, I protected others. Though, to be fair, he wanted to call me Velka Kos, but I refused. I still can’t remember my own name for sure, but “Nemo” sounds at least familiar, so we went with that.  
As I said, Warlock was really the only option for me. The willingness to place yourself in harm’s way just for some arcane bit of knowledge, one bit you didn’t have before, that’s me to my core. Even without my declarative memory, I know that much.  
  
So naturally the first thing I did was test my new-found immortality. I found a cliff. Fear of heights definitely sounds like me.  
  
_Dying hurts. ___  
  
I assume you get used to it eventually, but the first time Carrix brought me back I gasped like a fish out of water. I could still feel my bones breaking and piercing my organs, the moment of white hot ringing pain as my head hits the ground- then nothing. Just waking up on the heights like it was all a bad dream.  
  
The only thing that adventure taught me was an uncomfortable awareness of what my body is doing at all times. I can feel my larger organs sliding against each other, the beat of my heart against my lungs. I was not eager to repeat the experience. The Ghosts may be able to resurrect you, but they can’t (or don’t) shield you from the experience. I asked Carrix about that. He said, “Removing the pain of death would remove your fear of it.” Which...isn’t an answer. But it’ll do for now.

____  


Nemo closed the journal with a snap. It didn’t have quite the same heft as the few books she had seen, but the encoded data was infinitely more durable than the books. She also didn’t have to worry about putting it away or losing it. As soon as she let it go, it and the pen vanished, presumably retrieved by Carrix for use later. She made him promise to never read it. What was the point of a journal if people read it?  
  
Even so, the wonders of her new life never ceased to amaze her. It was a strange sensation, being surprised by everything for the first time, but having nothing to compare it to. She somehow knew it was miraculous that she could write on a tablet of hard light that would dematerialize until she wanted to write again, and what books felt like, but she could never remember writing on paper or reading a book.  
  
It was now two years since she had awoken- arisen. Awoken meant something else. She still felt like a child in many ways. There were many in her shoes, fortunately, since she was one of a very young generation of Guardians risen in what was coming to be called that Age of the Waking Traveler. There had been a massive war- she could see the scars all over the City- but people seemed intent on moving forward. Which is what she did.  
  
Still, the question of who she had been tugged at her mind. If there were answers, they would be on Venus. All she really needed was an excuse-  
  
Carrix chriped in.  
  
“We have an incoming missive from Arthus.” Arthus was a very...hands-off kind of mentor, so whatever he wanted, it was likely to send her somewhere.  
  
“Go ahead.”  
  
“Nemo. Patrols on Venus have uncovered a sealed chamber in the Vex Citadel. The sector is patrolled heavily, so it should be quiet enough for you to poke around without attracting too much attention. I want you to get in there and tell me what you see.”  
  
-to go to Venus.  
  
“As I said, its sealed. You’ll have to find your way in.”  
  
“Done.” Arthus didn’t answer a lot of questions, so Nemo had stopped asking them. They would go over the task in detail once she returned. The link went dead.  
  
“Carrix?” Nemo’s heart started beating faster. She loved this part.  
  
“Let’s go to Venus.”  
  
Nemo tipped back the rest of her drink and thumbed over enough glimmer to cover the tab, then made her way to the roof. The rooftop garden wasn’t technically speaking part of the cafe, but it was owned by the same people, and the only way to it was through the cafe, so there was nothing really stopping people from taking their drinks upstairs.  
At this time of day, though, it was fairly slow. Only a handful of people dotted the tables, no two sitting together. They seemed to be enjoying the light breeze that came in from across the Wall and ruffled the ornate awnings that criss-crossed overhead. The sun was high enough to shine on the awnings, which left a lovely ambient multicolored glow on the garden. Nemo wished she’d taken her drink up here. Next time.  
  
These patrons were evidently new to the cafe, though. Several gasped as she hurled herself over the edge and into space. The rush of primordial fear consumed her as she saw the gaping expanse between her and the market below, and she reveled in it for just a moment. Carrix already had her ship en route, and as soon as it was close enough he disintegrated her and moved her into the cockpit. Trans-mat, he called it, but it was still, again, miraculous, and Nemo never got tired of it. All the thrill of throwing yourself off a cliff, none of your bones poking through vital parts.  
  
The course was already plotted in as Nemo made herself comfortable, but City edict required that jumpships be piloted by sentients while in City airspace. Wasn’t Carrix sentient? Not the point, she was told. She checked with Tower Traffic for an exit vector, got the green light, and dutifully took her ship into low orbit. It was still so hard not to just step on the gas and see where she could go. That caused a LOT of yelling, though. Once in orbit, it was a simple matter of confirming her route before making the jump to Venus.

This was another strange side effect of this particular brand of amnesia- the streets of the Ishtar Collective were familiar. Naturally, they were the first thing she’d seen after Carrix found her, so there was a sense of coming home. But they were also familiar, as though if she squinted hard enough, she could only just see them as they had been in the Golden Age. Trees and vines and other invasive growth had torn the ruins apart, and while they had roughly the shape of the Golden Age, many of the markings and distinguishing features were hidden by plant life, unless one wandered deep into one of the buildings. Instead of plants, the buildings were infested by bands of Fallen scavenging technology and resources to feed their hatred of humans.  
  
Nemo throttled her sparrow back more than necessary to make the turn. This corner here, in particular, that one little shop somehow always attracted her gaze, so she slowed way down to stare at it.  
  
“Anything?”  
  
“No. Nothing. Just that same sense of…’There. There it is.’”  
  
“Since we’re here, should we…?” Carrix, being her Ghost, knew intimately what she was about, but was always careful mentioning it out loud.  
  
“Let’s. Might as well.” Nemo throttled the sparrow to a stop and dismounted. Like her journal, it vanished into thin air, waiting for it to be needed again. No grand theft auto in the deep future, she thought. She then stopped.  
  
“Nemo?”  
  
She didn’t answer. She had looked up medical texts in hopes of understanding why she remembered some things, but not others. There was declarative memory, which involved things like names and dates and places. According to the texts, this was absent in every known Guardian. There was also non-declarative memory, like language processing, how to hold a fork, and how to form a sentence. This was found intact across the board in all known Guardians. It was such a spectacular, unique, and precise form of amnesia that it could only be caused by a directed will. Carrix himself didn’t know if he caused the amnesia, or if it was a side-effect of the paracausal Light, something determined by the Traveler.  
  
The point being, the need to lock a door to feel safe was part of non-declarative memory. But the name of a specific thing, like “grand theft auto,” should be totally erased. It had something to do with someone taking your car, of which hundreds now lay abandoned, rusting in the streets of every inhabited world. Again, though, while she was amazed by the trans-mat of her sparrow, she couldn’t explain that it had ever been otherwise. That it certainly had been was something she knew from learning about humanity’s past in the City, not from her own recollection.  
  
“I remembered something.” Nemo finally said.  
  
“Oh?” Carrix whirred, ready to record what came next.  
  
“The phrase ‘grand theft auto.’ It’s a...transgression. A sin. Crime. You take someone’s car away from them. I assume before trans-mat was a thing.”  
  
Carrix was silent for a moment.  
  
“Not particularly useful in the here and now.”  
  
“No. Let’s carry on.” That was how it usually happened. What miniscule fragments came to mind, it was always on reflex, never when she tried to remember. And never more than a momentary glimpse.  
  
Nemo stepped through the door into the hollowed space, and was struck by a most powerful wave of deja vu. The counter, the tables, all was as she almost remembered it. Dirty, broken, destroyed, and overgrown, but familiar all the same.  
  
There was a table near the door with an intact bench. Nemo took a seat and looked out the window. That feeling again, as if she could squint just a little harder, the pre-Collapse world would reveal itself to her. Just a little more effort, and her past should come erupting through the jungle that was consuming the ruins.  
  
There came a flicker of movement in her blurry vision and her eyes snapped open.  
  
“Carrix, did you see that?”  
  
“I have detected nothing new, Nemo.”  
  
“There was movement.”  
  
“No, there was not.” Carrix did not often outright contradict her, but he devoutly trusted his sensors.  
  
Nevertheless, Nemo whipper her head around, looking for anything. As her eyes scanned the doorway, she had the briefest glimpse of a woman- big brown eyes in a round face- walking through the door, then nothing.  
  
“Carrix, there was a woman. She vanished.” She felt the light of the Ghost’s scanners wash over her.  
  
“I’m fine, Carrix. But I saw her, for a split second. There.” Nemo pointed at the doorway.  
  
“I detected no movement, Nemo. Whatever you saw, it was in your mind.”  
  
Perhaps a memory, then. She filed it away under the mysteries of her past life.

Back in the street, Nemo called her Sparrow. Mounting it, she sat for a moment, wrestling with herself. Carrix broke the silence.  
  
“Nemo, are you angry with me?”  
  
There were times when Ghosts in general, but hers in particular, surprised her. Anxiety seemed so...normal. For an object that had raised her from the ancient dead and granted her spectacular powers.  
  
“No, Carrix. This is a human thing. You have only your sensors to trust. And honestly, it helps to have a rational perspective.”  
  
“I am here to help.” Carrix sounded deeply relieved.


	2. Remembering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nemo learns more about her rebirth.

Entry March 5th, year 384 of the City Age  
Do Ghosts have friends? Among themselves, I mean. I am sure that if I asked Carrix, his answer would be something akin to “I have you, do I not?” And he would be correct, he is a friend- my only friend, in truth. But what is his relationship to, say, Arthus’ Ghost? Is his Ghost as much a mentor to Carrix as Arthus is to me, or do they commune silently while Arthus and I argue?  
  
If Ghosts do have friends, they can certainly have relationships fail, can’t they? What occurs between the two Ghosts of Guardians that start a romance of their own? Do the Ghosts follow suit, or has it ever happened with two lovers that their Ghosts hate each other?  
  
That’s now six more questions in a row, and I am uncertain how to ask them. There seems to be a lot more riding on the answers than appears on the surface. For example, let’s assume for a moment that their feelings towards other Ghosts mirrors that of their Guardians. This seems to imply that their emotions are directly tied to our own. Which means that Carrix’s anxiety is a direct result of my own.  
  
What then of Ghosts who have yet to find ‘their’ Guardian? I asked Carrix about it once, and all he could say was that a Ghost had an idea of the rough shape of a Guardian, but they knew nothing of names or order until they found “the one,” and then it was like a puzzle piece falling into place. (This implies that Carrix, while searching for me, spent time thinking about meeting me, and a name for me. That makes me feel like a pet, almost.) But do they not have emotions prior to meeting their Guardian? Is my awakening as much a shock for them as for me?  
  
The simple matter of whether or not Ghosts have friends boils down to the nature of their sentience. The nearest I can gather is that, overall, Ghosts are somewhere between sentient and...not. Are there degrees of sentience? IS this why they aren’t allowed to pilot within the City?  
  
I was risen from the dead to fight the enemies of humanity, not ask myself existential questions. But if I am able to do so, is that a side effect of the Light, or did the Traveler intentionally grant me this capacity? Perhaps it is inborn in being a Warlock. Perhaps there’s a reason that of the three classes, the Warlock order has the most ‘rogues.’ Our quest for knowledge tends to send us over the edge to some pretty wild territories. I suspect I shall be labeled as such someday. That’s a limitation of the Vanguard, not of the Traveler’s plan for us, however. Otherwise we wouldn’t be able to go rogue.

“Carrix, do you remember the room where you found me?”  
  
“Very well.”  
  
“Can you show me?”  
  
“Gladly.”  
  
Carrix zipped out of- wherever they go- and shone a bright light down the hallway. Devoid of power, these old skyscraper hulks would remain pitch black in the innermost hallways no matter how high in the sky the sun was. There was still plenty of debris to trip over if one was not careful. The little Ghost floated forward at a pace Nemo could follow.  
  
She had struggled with the idea of coming back here. She hadn’t been here since she had woken up with Carrix’s light in her face. Part of her was afraid of what she would find, but any memories to be found here would by default be the most recent ones from her past life. There was nowhere else to start, really.  
  
Nemo slowly picked her way through the ruined hallways of a building that, from the street, did not stand out at all. It was a middling skyscraper in a district full of them, with no grand plazas or fountains before it, sandwiched between two others that different only in what she guessed were the original colors. But this was the one she had walked out of.  
  
There were parts that were already familiar to her, but not really familiar. She recognized vending machines and the sign for a bathroom, and remembered passing them by on her way out two years ago. They came to a stairwell in the core of the building, darker than anything she’d seen yet. Nemo moved to go up, but Carrix headed down.  
  
“Nemo?”  
  
“Wasn’t it upstairs? I remember going down to get out of the building.”  
  
“No, I’m quite sure it was down here.” Carrix also trusted his memory implicitly. So did Nemo, usually. The sensation of needing to go up was powerful, reflexive. She resolved to go back to the beginning and work backwards from there. She headed downstairs in Carrix’s wake.  
  
She followed the Ghost down three floors to a hallway unusually clean of debris. Whatever had been down here, it hadn’t been used much, even before the Collapse.  
  
At the end of the hallway, there was a single door. Nemo’s breath caught.  
  
“Yes. You were there.”  
  
“Tell me about the moments leading up to you finding me.”  
  
“There’s not a lot to tell. I had come down here to avoid a Vex patrol, thinking I had scoured the Ishtar Collective. The patrol was particularly thorough, so I had to come all the way down here to avoid the scans. I worried that there was nowhere left to run if they came any closer. Instead, I found you, slumped over here, with that weapon in your hands.” Carrix gave the Ghost equivalent of a nod, which amounted to just a sort of strange bobble. Looking over, Nemo saw an ancient rifle covered in rust, only just recognizable by its shape.  
  
“You said it seemed like I died fighting.”  
  
“Yes, I had to move the rifle to wake you up. Your skeleton was still wrapped around it.”  
  
“Was I against the door?”  
  
“No, just...here.” Carrix shone a greenish beam of light, and the outline of a human skeleton appeared in the corner.  
  
“Did you manage to notice how I died?”  
  
“There wasn’t enough left after so long to do a proper autopsy. I did notice claw marks on your ribs consistent with Thrall claws.”  
  
“Hive, on Venus?”  
  
“They’ve been seen here before. It seems they came with the Darkness, to help push humanity over the edge, perhaps. Their connection with the Darkness is attested in the Books of Sorrow, according to some in the Cryptarchy.”  
  
“Had we not had contact with them before?”  
  
“There is no record of non-human organic contact prior to the Collapse. The only sentient non-humans were the first exos, unless you count the Vex, and at the time it seemed they still struggled for equal treatment. I suppose it wouldn’t have been an issue if there had been other non-humans to compare them to.” He sounded bitter.  
  
“Ok, cool it with the commentary. Preaching to the choir.” Carrix was, for some reason, exceptionally sore about the mistreatment of exos, which even today occurred to some degree within the City. (Was that a reflection of her own feelings, or had Carrix always felt that way?)  
  
“That must have been terrifying, the first hint of non-Earth based life being…” Nemo thought back to her own first encounter with the Hive. The creatures were vile enough, but there was something hideously non-Euclidian about their living spaces, and the walls were pock-marked with miniscule cysts that seemed to writhe- She shook her head. Something about the Hive upset her on a deeply primal level and filled her head with the buzzing drone of needing to run like hell. She tried not to think too much about it.  
  
“...that.”  
  
“If your old self had the same reaction to seeing them as you did, that makes your end here even more heroic.” Carrix sounded proud.  
  
“Flatterer.”  
  
The little machine bobbled side to side, a gesture that managed to look like a shrug.  
  
“Let’s see what was in the room that was worth dying for.” Nemo remembered bones, but not much else. Another look wouldn’t hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short. I considered doing two entries in this chapter, but the next one is fairly long (I may have to break it up).


	3. Into the Sink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disappointed, our hero carries out her mission, and meets someone new.

Entry: March 5th, continued.  
  
I don’t fully know what I expected to find in that room. It wasn’t as though I’d find a scrapbook with my face full of memories that would answer all my questions. I mean, in all honesty, part of me probably hoped for it. But realistically, what could I have expected? Bones, I suppose. Rubble. I did find those.  
  
With Carrix’s help, I was able to sort the bones out into individuals. There were eight of them. Two men who showed a fair amount of age on their bones, three women of various ages, and three children- near as we could tell, the children were unrelated to anyone in the room. They had probably run into the building to hide from the Hive.  
  
None of them shared the claw marks I had, but all showed signs of voidfire- the nasty, blackish searing flame conjured by the more powerful Hive, and channeled through the strange sidearms carried by the lesser. The thralls hadn’t found them, but acolytes had.  
  
I had Carrix tag the location discretely, alerting other Ghosts who had not yet found a Guardian to check this room. Perhaps I would recognize one of them, someday. A feeble hope, truly, but a little hope makes one wealthy these days.  
  
Finding nothing useful in the room, we headed upstairs, the way I had gone on instinct. This was certainly a place of work- I found labs and offices, not apartments. My guess is I worked here in some capacity, probably up those same stairs a hundred times or more. That kind of muscle memory goes deep- apparently deep even into your DNA. This time Carrix followed, and I trusted my instincts. We made our way to the fifth floor.  
  
I’m sure I had spent a great deal of time there. The entire floor gave me a powerful deja vu, overwhelming- such that I had to sit down. There was too much of it to pick out a desk or space that had been mine. After a time, I began to wander the floor hoping to find anything that would trigger something.  
  
The floor was full of wide desks and books. Nearly every one I touched turned to dust at the lightest pressure- all that knowledge, lost. Scattered around were a number of strange objects- rocks, it looked like, mostly. One or two had recognizable patterns, however. I saw nautiloids and spirals and other signs of ancient life, presumably retrieved from below Venus’ surface. There was one, however, that I knew immediately. The pure geometry of it was unmistakable. It was Vex!  
  
Carrix explained that while Vex ruins had been found on Venus prior to the Collapse, there had been no contact with another organic life form. The Collective had even studied a remaining Vex mind, apparently, with somewhat disastrous results. I pocketed the scrap.  
  
I wandered into a back room, and as the door opened, I heard a familiar click and whine. It was a Fallen mine, wired to the door. Not itself dangerous, but it tends to slow you down a great deal until you can get away from it.  
  
Naturally, the Fallen on the floor above heard it and came pouring out of the stairwells. It was a brief fight (something else I deeply enjoy- exploring the range of powers the Traveler granted me), but it left the floor- I was about to say in ruins, but it was already that. What’s below ruins? That.  
  
There was nothing left of use to anyone. Not a single intact book that I could find, and each fossil was now indistinguishable from the other bits of debris scattered around.  
I’m now in a very bad mood. At least I have the Vex object.

The Sparrow blasted across the lush, toxic landscape. Having run out of leads on her own identity, there was nothing left on Venus except the task Arthus had set for her.  
  
It seemed that without the Traveler’s continual effort, Venus was reverting to its old state- a poisonous, acidic, highly pressurized hell. In the meantime, the jungle was king. While it meant that Nemo had to wear a full envirosuit at all times, it was not yet bad enough that she couldn’t walk around. Give it a few hundred years or so, and things might be different. She sped across the pools of sulfur and through the clouds of methane in silence.  
  
“Nemo.” The Ghost’s tone was quiet, but firm.  
  
“Not now, Carrix.”  
  
“Nemo, I understand why you’re upset. But you need to understand that for the overwhelming majority of Guardians, they only ever know as much as you do. Less, in some cases. There is one Guardian who was found in the back seat of a car on a highway in Russia. Cars lined up for miles in either direction. Whatever happened, it left them there to rot. Never any indication of where they had come from. Presumably they had been going to the cosmodrome for one of the colony ships, but so were thousands of others. Hardly definitive.”  
  
“Your point?”  
  
“My point being that there are hundreds of us. Probably less than 10 have any clue about their past lives- Ana and Cayde are the rarest of examples. They have their names, but that’s about the limit. Why is it so important to you, that you will not rest until you know everything?”  
  
Nemo was quiet for a time. When she spoke, it was deliberately, picking her words with care.  
  
“Because I don’t feel at home here. As warm as my welcome has been, I have no connection to any of this. I’m still taking it largely on faith that I was alive previously. The whole system is alien and foreign to me. Even the City isn’t home- it’s just a place to keep my stuff. Which I don’t have a lot of. I’m anchorless, rudderless. I hardly know anyone. I don’t fight to protect humanity. I fight to not die.”  
  
“...I see.”  
  
“Carrix, please don’t misunderstand me. Its the bias of the living that they would choose to exist over not. I don’t resent being here, or that you found me. This is not your doing.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
“Yes. You cannot reasonably be held responsible for how I react to this life. I don’t hate it. I just...want it to feel meaningful.”  
  
“I see.”  
  
“Zavala talks a good game, but his words don’t hit me anywhere special. I mostly just want him to stop preaching so I can start killing things ‘cause that’s what I’m good at. And that’s not a good feeling at all. Is that all I’m here for? To kill? Do Guardians not get to live the rest of life? At least if I have a name, my name, I can feel like part of the human race again. Nemo still doesn’t sound right. It’s just a noise that came to mind. I have no idea what it refers to. It doesn’t mean ‘me.’”  
  
“You’ve been chewing on this for a while.”  
  
“Not really. I’m just trying to answer your question.”  
  
Carrix was silent for the rest of the ride.

The Ishtar Collective was founded on the brim of the Ishtar Sink, a colossal depression in Venus’ crust that housed a number of curiosities. Chief among these was the Citadel. It took its name, presumably, from the way it towered over the Waking Ruins. Even from the rim of the Sink, one could see the Citadel looming over the landscape, and according to the Vanguard, protected the entrance to the Vault of Glass, some kind of Vex thought-experiment-turned-afterlife. A virtual space that nonetheless proved highly lethal to many Guardians. Not all who entered perished, either. At least one Guardian had been trapped in the Vault for centuries.  
  
The Ishtar Sink itself was teeming with life. When the Traveler had terraformed the planet before making its way to Mars, it had left a breathable but hideously humid climate in the lower latitudes. Life had grown at an accelerated rate, and while it had seemed to taper off in the Golden Age according to the Cryptarchy, the dormancy of the Traveler had allowed the jungles to consume the planet. The Sink was a prime example of growth gone wild. The same vantage from the rim displayed what ruins it could; the rest was a sea of leafy green and blue canopy.  
  
The Vex terrified Nemo for a very different reason than the Hive. They were somehow omnipresent in time and were capable of solving gargantuan algorithms and reducing them to predictions of crystalline clarity. The Citadel, for example, was made of stone that had been dated to eons before humans evolved, yet contained technology even now the Cryptarchs were struggling to comprehend. It was rumored there was some link between the Vex and the Hive, but the nature of the association was vague at best.  
  
Thankfully, Nemo was not going to the Vault. Less thankfully, the Sink was unusually quiet. The patrols Arthus had mentioned were nowhere to be seen. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that the Traveler was with her. Carrix was proof of that.  
  
She took the Sparrow to within a klick of the location Arthus had relayed. She found it was usually better to approach quietly to avoid any surprises. She readied her hand cannon (part of her groaned at calling it that, but that was the name), and felt the comforting weight of it settle against her hip. For most of the distance, there was only the sound of her breathing. Her helmet had a recycling unit for the air built in, and it punctuated each breath with a soft click. She wound her way in and around trees so thick she would be unable to wrap her arms even part of the way around them. Vines draped like festival ribbons from the branches, and strange, alien insects buzzed about. Occasionally she splashed across a small river. A klick wasn’t a huge distance to cross, but the constant up-and-down nature of the terrain made it harder than usual.  
  
It was approaching sundown, which would make spotting the Vex easier, when Carrix broke the silence.  
  
“Nemo, there’s a Ghost near here.”  
  
“Just a Ghost?”  
  
“Yes. No Guardian. She’s asking for help.”  
  
“Ping her quietly. Can she come to us?” Nemo was not keen on wandering around the Sink after dark, twinkling Vex or not. The surface of Venus was notoriously volatile.  
  
“Yes, but she has to maneuver around some Goblins.”  
  
“We’ll wait right here.” Nemo squatted in a hollow under a rocky outcropping, too wide open to be called a cave. She was largely hidden by leafy vines and roots hanging over the edge. There were only two reasons for a Ghost to be out here alone- either she hadn’t found her Guardian yet, or her Guardian was in trouble. Presumably dead, if that was the case, but that could be rectified if they got back to the body. They didn’t wait long.  
  
The Ghost remained invisible (or intangible- Carrix couldn’t explain where he went) until she was just within a few feet of them. With a familiar glint of light, the Ghost appeared, about the size of Nemo’s fist, wearing a shell in mottled green, brown, and yellow.  
  
“Thank the Traveler you came by!” Her voice was shaking, probably from whatever the equivalent to adrenaline was.  
  
“Are you alright?” Carrix and Nemo were both more comfortable with him talking to other Ghosts. Talking to another’s Ghost wasn’t quite taboo, but Nemo still found it...disrespectful. Sacreligious? Awkward, anyway.  
  
“Yes, I’m fine. Just glad to be away from the Vex. You are...going in there, aren’t you?”  
  
“That’s what we were sent here for. Is...your Guardian still there?”  
  
“Yes. She went down to look at a new chamber, but the Vex swarmed her. I only just got away. But I’ve been watching them, trying to get back to her. They seem to be looking for something and ignoring her body.”  
  
“Well, -what’s your name?”  
  
“Aepho.”  
  
“Aepho, with your intel, Nemo and I can get you back to your Guardian. We’ll figure out what the Vex are doing here together.” Carrix sounded quite sure of himself. “I’m Carrix,” he added as an afterthought. “This is Nemo.” The warlock nodded at the mention of her name.  
  
As they started out, Nemo spoke for the first time.  
  
“Carrix.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Remind me to ask Arthus about this other Guardian, as well as where the patrols went. Something’s wrong.” There should be regular instances of Guardians sweeping the area, keeping the Vex at bay.  
  
“Copy.”  
  
Nemo walked in silence, feeling conflicted about escorting another Ghost. On the one hand, she was glad to be able to help, but on the other, your Ghost was in many ways an extension of you (how many ways?). The reason they spoke about “your Guardian” is because that was it- that connection never ended, to hear Carrix tell it. They would be together, closer than twins, until they met whatever catastrophic end awaited them. No Guardian died of old age, only partly because they didn’t age. It was also the Ghost that acted as a conduit for the Traveler’s Light, not just granting immortality, but the strange powers they used to push back the Darkness as well. It felt like she was holding someone else’s lover, but also part of their soul, something uniquely and personally holy. Part of her squirmed at the thought of Carrix working with anyone else, but it if got them back together, she would be glad of the help too.  
  
Her train of thought was interrupted by Aepho.  
  
“The first Goblin should be just around the hill.”  
  
Nemo dropped into a crouch, drawing her weapon, and half crawled to the top of the hill to see. Sure enough, between the trees, she could see a Vex frame, evidently searching for something. Part of what unnerved her about the Vex was that everything they did was alien- nothing about their behavior found any echo in any life form Nemo had ever seen.  
To say that the Vex appeared to be searching was not to say that it was stomping back and forth, turning over rocks. It stood, silent except for the tiniest whirr of some mechanism deep inside. The setting sun glinted off the metal chassis, and Nemo could see some of the inner workings- fluidform pistons in place of muscles, hair thin wires tougher than steel for tendons, and in place of organs- any number of devices for searching, scanning, finding, and tearing apart. They didn’t tend to kill so much as they disassembled. It was clean, efficient, thorough, and utterly lacking any kind of malice. They moved with purpose and determination- there was some kind of thought at work inside these machines, but it was unlike any intelligence she had ever encountered. The horror before her was called a Gobin, and it was the simplest and most basic unit of the Vex legions.  
  
Shushing her fear, Nemo lined up her shot. With this gun, it would only take one, if placed correctly. She aimed for the glittering core in its abdomen that (probably) served as a brain. The shot would be loud, and soon other Vex would come running. Better to pick a fight here where she had room to run if need be than sneak past and get into hot water later. Besides, the Traveler was with her.  
  
With held breath, she squeezed the trigger until she felt the hammer drop. The sensors in her helmet cut off any noise above a certain volume, so all she heard was a short crack like a branch snapping and the gun bucked in her hand. The shot was true, striking cleanly in the core. The Goblin gave a short shudder, then exploded. WIth the boom cut from her hearing, she could just make out the tearing of metal and an audible squeal, almost a scream. But machines didn’t feel pain. She also wasn’t sure why they exploded when she did that- not all Vex did. Some just vanished.  
  
Carrix had taken up his usual post of monitoring the airwaves.  
  
“Incoming Vex, 10 and 2 o’clock.”  
  
Nemo took a deep breath, remembering Arthus’ words: “Inside you is a fire that burns hotter than any flame. It is the fire that ignites the universe, the fire that gives us life, the fire that takes it away.” She felt the heat of the sun crackling across her skin.  
  
Warlocks made strange uses of the cosmic powers at their command. They could call on the rending forces of a black hole’s event horizon, wield the flames at the center of a star, or call forth lightning from interstellar clouds. Nemo felt the fury of the solar core come to life within her, and felt the fire surging through her. She was a dawnblade, living vessel of the Light. She took the fight to the Vex.  
  
In the heat of battle, Nemo gave no thought to her existentialist concerns. There was no question of her usefulness, her connection to humanity, or whether or not Ghosts could make friends. This was her, distilled and rarefied, a vase of stellar core material made of the clearest crystal. She danced among her foes, alternating between blasts from her weapon that tore through Vex plating and hurling bolts of white hot fire that boiled the fluidform workings of the machine monsters. She felt the bursts from the slap rifles glancing off her clothing, courtesy of the additional shielding Carrix provided. It wasn’t impenetrable, but it took a beating that she didn’t have to.  
  
This was, if she was honest with herself, why she was here. She could wish for more out of her second life, but the reality was that she had been reborn not to use weapons, but as a weapon herself. She was a channel, a conduit for the Traveler’s fury. There was no muddiness of purpose in the moment- she was a tool being wielded by the most profound hand, and her edges were sharp.  
  
How much of this was left over from her first life? How much did the Traveler alter her to make her into this?  
  
And just like that, it was over. The Vex lay scattered around her, seared and fused, little more than slag. The purity drained from Nemo’s mind, a familiar emptiness that felt like putting a tool away once the job was done.  
  
Carrix had a knack for asking the questions that came to Nemo’s mind. Were they just that aligned, or was he pulling the thoughts from her head? The line between Ghost and Guardian was sometimes fuzzy.  
  
“How far is your Guardian, Aepho?”  
  
“Deeper in, close to the door of the chamber.”  
  
Nemo never spoke a word. She holstered her weapon, and with tendrils of the sun still trailing in her wake, she headed into the rocks.  
  
They encountered a few more Vex as the rocky paths became a small canyon, then a tunnel that burrowed down into the earth. Nothing like the open melee from earlier. They seemed to be much more spread out here in the caves, only just far enough apart so she didn’t get lost. Almost like she was being led to the chamber. Even a Guardian newly risen would have little trouble making their way through this passage. Carrix seemed to pick up on her unease.  
  
“Aepho, were there more Vex down here when you first came through?”  
  
“A few, but not many. Gypsy was surprised by something. Just there one moment, then crushed. We had no trouble making it to the door, just...when we got there.”  
  
“That would have been helpful to know before we waltzed in here guns blazing.” Again, Carrix was echoing Nemo’s thoughts.  
  
“Yes…” Aepho sounded embarrassed. How new was she?  
  
In any event, Nemo began moving more quietly through the caverns. Not quite hiding, as stealth wasn’t her forte, but she did bother rolling her steps heel-to-toe to keep the noise down. She checked corners before she turned them, and kept her weapon ready.  
  
They came to a turn in the cavern where the wall showed signs of weapons fire, great black scorch marks on the stone.  
  
“Here, just around the corner.” Aepho piped up.  
  
“Can you reach her from here?”  
  
“I think...yes. I can.”  
  
“Let’s bring her back here. Whatever is in there won’t stand up to both of us.”  
  
Without a reply, Aepho began spraying light into a crevice in the wall. Instead of bouncing around the chamber, the light stayed confined to a small area as it coalesced into another Guardian. She was an exo, a highly sophisticated frame with what appeared to be human consciousness placed inside. No one remembered now what exos had been made for, or how they were made, but they made cunning warriors. This one wore the characteristic hood-and-cape of a Hunter- the solitary rangers that stalked the wilderness outside the City, tracking and slaying humanity’s foes wherever they found them.  
  
One thing Nemo had noticed was that when your Ghost brought you back, you didn’t remember or feel the time between. Minutes could pass, meaning a battle that killed you could be over by the time you returned to it. In this case, it meant that you were suddenly in a different room, faced with a stranger.  
  
“Aepho, what was that?” The Hunter’s voice had the characteristic exo hum, but was otherwise light and pleasant.  
  
“I don’t know. I just...you were gone with no warning, and I panicked. Luckily I found these two headed our way.”  
  
Carrix waggled in a way that Nemo understood as “Can you believe this?” A Ghost panicking like that and abandoning her Guardian was unheard of. It was the one real threat Guardians faced, that their Ghost would be trapped in battle with them. If your Ghost died, that was it. You were back to mortal.  
  
Nemo shrugged, meaning, “It can happen if they’re really new, I guess. If she makes a habit of it, they might live longer.” Longer in this case meaning a few extra centuries.  
  
“How long?” The exo was asking.  
  
“Only a few hours. I found them just past the Vex perimeter.”  
  
The exo turned to Nemo and extended her hand.  
  
“I’m Gypsy-3. Thank you for bringing my Ghost back.”  
  
“Nemo. We were headed this way anyway. This is Carrix.” She felt weird introducing her Ghost- usually he had to do it himself- but she felt it was fair. She’d already known Aepho longer than this exo.  
  
“Nemo. Ancient Earth. Several possible origins- Oromo, ‘the man.’” Gypsy looked her up and down. “Unlikely. Korean, ‘rectangular.’ More unlikely. Latin, ‘no one.’ Possible. You are not no one though, you have saved my life.”  
  
“Ahh...yeah, I suppose. Still, as I said, we were headed this way.”  
  
“Looking for Vex, or looking for chamber?”  
  
“Chamber…” There was definitely something odd about this exo. Her voice, though pleasant, was oddly even and flat. Exos typically spoke as naturally as humans or Awoken. Whatever was causing her odd patterns, it was particular to this being, not exos as a whole. “Does it really mean ‘no one?’” Nemo gave a sidelong glance at her Ghost, who remained carefully still. Not now, it meant.  
  
“That is one of several possibilities. There are numerous references to the word in the archives. Names, places, companies. The majority of them stem from the Latin. How did you know about this chamber?” Nemo wondered if this was how Arthus felt- like they were having two very different conversations.  
  
“My mentor from the City asked me to investigate. He didn’t say anything about other Guardians, though.”  
  
“Nor did mine. Also set false expectations re: the volatility of the region.”  
  
“Same here.”  
  
“Regardless. Vex are here looking for something. We should deny them their prize.”  
  
“Agreed.” Nemo had to admit, this was a very efficient way of conversing. Exos didn’t typically alter their speech in any way. Aside from the hum, their speech was entirely consistent with humans. While this was refreshing, Nemo wondered if this was a holdover from her previous life.  
  
Gypsy drew a scout rifle from wherever Ghosts kept things like that, and stalked into the next chamber. For a being made entirely of metal, she was amazingly silent, and when Nemo followed her around the corner, she had trouble making out the Guardian against the shadows. She crouched down beside the Hunter and examined the room.  
  
There was a substantial number of Vex in the room- a large handful of Goblins, to start. But there were also a few Hobgoblins (who names these things? Nemo asked herself), which were specialized sniper frames, and a pair of Minotaurs (seriously, was the point to make them less scary by giving them silly names? It didn’t really work). The Minotaurs were the real threat in the room. These units stood a full head above Nemo, and boasted a beefy weapons platform for close and long range combat complete with rotating shielding. Oh, and they could teleport short distances. Because fuck causality.  
  
Nemo could still feel the sunlight humming just under her skin. It was the sort of thing that once you opened yourself to it, it tended to fill you up until it required release. This, too, took on a spectacular form, thanks to the Traveler’s gift. She turned to Gypsy.  
  
“Can you focus on the Hobgoblins? I can trash the Minotaurs. This sunlight’s gotta go somewhere.”  
  
Gypsy smiled. It was an odd expression on an exo, meant to imitate a human’s smile. It involved the shifting of dozens of tiny metal plates, meaning that smiles didn’t grow on exos so much as blossom. It could be unsettlingly organic looking- just not human.  
  
“Consider it done.”  
  
Nemo was brimming with solar light looking for somewhere to go. She drew her sword- a wide, chopping blade with an unusually long handle, and charged straight at the two Minotaurs. She heard the brief cracks of Gypsy’s rifle, and saw the Hobgoblins collapse. The remaining Vex were now focused on her.  
  
Again, she heard Arthus’ words: “You do not control the flow of power. You succumb to it, and guide it. If you fight it, it will burn you up. Release your fire, and scourge your enemies.” It had taken some time for her to learn to let go. Channeling the void was simpler- it only required indomitable will. This was a completely different approach. But she reached inside, and forced herself to relinquish control.  
  
Flames burst from her body as if she herself were exploding. Sheets of coronal mass poured forth, lifting her off the ground. Fire washed down her blade in an unending torrent, and with a flick of her wrist, she cast flares before her.  
  
The Goblins never stood a chance- they didn’t even have time to explode- they simply melted. The Minotaurs turned towards her, firing all weapons, but nothing short of heavy artillery could touch her in this state.  
  
She cleansed them of their shields with a few lazy slashes of the blade, then charged forward. The blade, now nearly vomiting plasma, made short work of their metal frames, parting joints and fusing components. As they screamed their final screams, she saw the glowing edges of her cuts in the metal. They died, and when they did, the strange circuit-like light associated with Vex transports reached out and took them.  
  
Finally Nemo was empty of the light, and she settled back to earth. She could never tell if the Minotaurs truly died, or if in the moment they were whisked away to be repaired and put back in service. Not unlike what happens to Guardians, she supposed.  
  
Gypsy strode forward to stand beside her.  
  
“Looks easy.”  
  
“Were they what got you?”  
  
“Not sure, doubtful. Was no longer quiet, hard fight ahead. Just...stopped. Like a long drop and sudden stop. Broken, shattered. Then I saw you.”  
  
“Crushed, like your Ghost said.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
Nemo scanned the room, looking for any more signs of trouble. She saw nothing.  
  
“It seems to be gone now, whatever it was.”  
  
“Concerning.”  
  
“Yes.” So much more efficient. She liked this exo. “Let’s see what the Vex were guarding here.”  
  
The back wall of the cavern was clearly not natural. The Vex had a protocol of turning living worlds into thinking ones- slowly converting all organic and mineral mass into giant Vex computers. It was said that this was where the Vault of Glass had come from, and there were rumors of others in the system.  
  
The rock in the cavern changed from fluid worn channels near where they had come in to more regular, geometric shapes as they got closer to the back wall, to the point where the formations almost looked like bismuth crystals, without the rainbow sheen. Still, the back wall was another matter entirely. It was sheer, perfectly vertical, and bone white. It was shot through with regular, patterned veins of red and copper-colored metal. They kept congruent, sharp angles, occasionally diverting into mathematically perfect circles, from which shone lights, presumably used for some unknown Vex process.  
  
The truly odd thing about Vex constructs was not the metal veins- Nemo understood well enough how a circuit worked- it was the material the veins were cased in. It was stone, meaning it was of mineral composition in a regular crystalline lattice, but it didn’t match any known naturally occurring mineral. The Cryptarchs just called it “Vexite.” But it seemed to hold vital significance to the construct beyond a physical foundation. It conducted electricity with little to no loss, but somehow only from Vex sources. Most Guardians just called it what it was- rock.  
  
If the Vex were left to their own devices, the whole known universe would look like this. It was one of several horrifying ends humanity faced if they- Guardians as a whole- failed.  
  
In front of the wall, set back a ways, sat a squat pedestal, barely reaching Nemo’s knees. On the face away from the wall there was a small round orifice. She reached out, and Carrix floated from her hand towards the pedestal to scan it. She’d seen Vex nodes like this before, and each had a distinct purpose, not always the same. Some opened doors, some provided information, some interrupted processes, and some seemed to serve no other purpose than to bring wave after wave of Vex frames down on your head. The only way to know was to try it and see- always somewhat risky. Though she hadn’t seen one with an actual opening before.  
  
Carrix _hmm’d _and _huh’d _for a few moments while trying to determine what type of pedestal this one was. Gypsy wandered around the room, looking for anything the Vex might have dropped (unlikely).  
  
“Its a keyhole.” Carrix said matter-of-factly.  
  
“Can you pick it?” This seemed like a door pedestal- “door” to the Vex really just meant a warp gate to somewhere new and probably deadly.  
  
“Not in the slightest. It has no executable processes. It is a socket- it is prepared to do something, but it’s missing all the usual commands. I can manipulate existing Vex code, but I cannot create code from thin air. That requires orders of magnitude more processing than I have.”  
  
“That must be what the Vex were looking for outside, then. The key.”  
  
“That is a reasonable assumption.”  
  
“Any idea what it looks like?”  
  
“It would be small. It would probably fit in your hand. Beyond that, I cannot say.”  
  
“Gypsy, did you find any small Vex rocks?”  
  
“Nothing of value. Found numerous rocks, in varying stages of Vex-ness. Nothing fully Vex until you reach the wall.”  
  
“Did your mentor tell you anything else about this place?”  
  
“Found by Cryptarch, she said. Following the trail of some research found in the Ishtar Collective. Vex showed up after he did, forced to pull out.”  
  
“So the Cryptarch escaped?”  
  
“Assuming so. Probably sent us to clean house, will send the Cryptarch back.”  
  
“The Vex will come back as soon as we leave. Were you supposed to wait here for him?”  
  
“Not part of the task.”  
  
This was likely intentional. Arthus’ tasks tended to evolve into something else entirely. She couldn’t technically complete the task without the key, and he would not accept that. It was likely the same with Gypsy’s mentor. The key to the key was the Cryptarch. There was probably a lesson in here somewhere about knowing the right questions to ask. A clue somewhere she had missed that could have made this whole process easier. Arthus, however, was irritatingly hands-off.  
  
“Do you think you can get the name of the Cryptarch from your mentor?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“Let’s go talk to him, then.”____


	4. The Cryptarch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baffled by what they found on Venus, our heroes visit someone they think can help.

Entry: March 6th, year 384 of the City Age  
  
I don’t even want to watch the warp jump right now. That’s how annoyed I am.  
  
Knowing Arthus, however, that’s probably part of the point. “Self-knowledge is the foundation of all other knowledge.” So I should learn about myself first. Deep breaths.  
  
Ok. Why am I annoyed?  
  
This always happens. He sets me a task which sounds extremely simple on the surface, but somehow manages to creep into this grand quest.  
  
Why does this annoy me?  
  
It seems to always come down to me missing something early on, so I end up backtracking, sometimes across entire planets. It’s stupidly inefficient.  
  
Why does this always happen?  
  
I don’t ask questions. I just accept the task.  
  
How can I prevent this?  
  
Ask questions, I guess. But he doesn’t answer the questions I ask.  
  
Two possibilities then. My questions suck, or I’m asking the wrong person.  
  
Of course. He encourages me to go out and try to make connections among the Guardians, in the City. It will help me settle down, he says. Instead I hare off alone, expecting to be self-sufficient. Even with the Traveler’s Light, we are not all-powerful. Where would Gypsy have been if I hadn’t come along. If our roles had been reversed? I like to think that Carrix would not abandon me, but someday he might be forced to. I cannot live this life alone. I’ve been lamenting my loneliness, but doing nothing to alleviate it.  
  
My questions also probably suck. I should work on that too.  
  
Gypsy and Aepho are nice enough. I like them. I should try to spend more time with them once this task is over. Maybe we can help each other in the future. It’d be nice to feel like a friend. Not one that can practically read my thoughts, I mean.  
  
I’m still sore about the lab in the Collective, too. I have been nowhere where I felt the same kind of...resonance, I guess, with my past self. Not only did I learn nothing, but I’m now out of leads. Perhaps having Gypsy around will help take my mind off of that. Which was probably also part of Arthus’ point.  
  
Gypsy says the Cryptarch’s name is Adjunct Vister Tam. We’ll go see him as soon as we land in the City.  
  
Speaking of, though- how did she recognize my name? The Cryptarchy would likely have something on record for ancient languages, possibly even for Latin. But why would a Hunter know that? I’ll accept that she dumped it on me first thing as just being how she is. Knowing it at all, though, seems really out of character.

The Cryptarchy primarily focused on the recovery and deciphering of Golden Age relics, but it also served as an overall institute of higher learning, and many of the City’s young people attended at some point or another. Learning for learning’s sake was not a luxury to be widely found in the Last City, so many of its programs focused on disciplines that would directly benefit the City. Nevertheless, the large majority of young residents turned the area of Core South around the Cryptarchy into a vibrant district with a lively nightlife.  
  
It also meant the area was both crowded and loud. Particularly at night, when students, tired of being up to their necks in engrams all day, let off steam. As wild as it got, two Guardians making their way down the street tended to stick out, especially when one of them towered over the crowd, as Nemo did. Nemo preferred her solitude, spending as much time as possible either on the Wall, in the City Perimeter, or outside the City altogether. The press of people, Awoken, and exos who lived their lives without the Light seemed to highlight the separation between Guardian and citizen.  
  
Rumor had it that during the Golden Age, the Light had been for everyone, that lifespans had been close to three hundred years for everyone, health and disease had been eradicated. Now only Guardians had those benefits (and more besides). Even though genetically she was very similar to the people around her, it was just another difference. These people also had their own names, their own families, and their own stake in the game. How was it that those who had the most to protect were least able to do so, while those who could do the protecting best had the least cause to do so?  
  
It seemed that most people felt along these lines, even if they didn’t express it out loud (that would be ungrateful to the sacrifice of the Guardians- who frequently couldn’t even remember what it was they had sacrificed). Guardians rarely came down off the wall into the city, and people never left the City proper. It was clear it had been this way for some time- people tended to stop and stare as the two Guardians passed, towering human Warlock and taciturn exo Hunter.  
  
Though they wore no external insignia, there was no doubt about what the two of them were. Guardians could never pass as mortal. So people stopped and stared, and whispered as they passed by. Some in awe, some in resentment, and some in curiosity, opinions on the Guardians were as varied as opinions on the Traveler. On everyone’s lips was the same question: “What are they doing here?”  
  
Nemo hated standing out. But it was unavoidable, so she went about her business as brusquely as possible, and with little fanfare. It didn’t cross her mind, but it appeared to others that she was stern, abrasive, and unapproachable- which suited their impressions of Warlocks just fine.  
  
Nemo’s patience was wearing thin. They’d already gone by the Cryptarchy and found that Tam’s office was closed for the day. The young Awoken girl at the desk seemed oddly familiar with the Adjunct’s comings and goings, and told them he would be found at the same ramen shop he was always found at, eating by himself, having exactly two beers, then retiring.  
  
They had had to stop and ask for directions twice. Gypsy was taciturn and unhelpful, dutifully following Nemo as she navigated this crush of...aliens. That’s what they were to her. It saddened her to admit it, but that was the core of how she felt. She was expected to live forever, eternally guarding these aliens. It didn’t sound hateful in her mind, but it did highlight how far away from these people she felt.  
  
Her train of thought was interrupted by finally finding the shop they’d been looking for. It was tiny, featuring a counter for perhaps four close friends and a single table that would sit two very close friends that probably got folded up and put away when they closed. And yet somehow, the place was packed. Ten people in one store would not seem like much of a crowd in any other space, but these crushed into the shop, lingering in the oddest corners.  
  
A drop of warm broth landed on her shoulder. There was a human sitting on the sign above the shop.  
  
“Sorry about that, Guardian!” It wouldn’t have annoyed her unless she were already annoyed, so she chose not to make an issue of it.  
  
“Must be good, this place?”  
  
“You bet! Get the chicken curry.”  
  
Nemo meant to merely ask the proprietor where she could find Vister Tam, but he was brisk and businesslike, and she ended up with a nod and a chicken curry. It smelled wonderful. Gypsy wasn’t hungry. Did exos even eat?  
  
Moving away from the counter was itself a minor feat, but her height was enough to nudge people out of the way. She wove her way over to the small table that sat one- a young Awoken man, dark green hair on pale lilac skin, yellow eyes- who sat quietly contemplating the street.  
  
“Are you Vister Tam, of the Cryptarchy?”  
  
The young man sighed.  
  
“Office hours are from 3:00 to 5:00. I’ll be in the office tomorrow if you have any questions.”  
  
“It’s a bit more urgent than that, Adjunct. Vanguard business.”  
  
“Ah, shit. That fucking wall, isn’t it?”  
  
“If you referring to the Ishtar Sink, yes.”  
  
For the first time, he looked over at his company.  
  
“What, are we going to the Tower?”  
  
“I’m...sorry?”  
  
“I’m just an Adjunct- did they need to send two of you?”  
  
“What? No-” Nero glanced quickly at Gypsy, then back at the Awoken. “No. we just want to ask you some questions. We can do it here, if you like. I- uh. I should eat this, anyway.”  
  
Vister scooted away from the table to make room, gesturing for her to sit. Gypsy took up leaning against the well behind the Adjunct.  
  
“Do you two realize how terrifying you are to us mortals?”  
  
Nemo started unpacking her dinner.  
  
“I think I can imagine. I can’t speak for all of us, but it’s why I spend most of my time outside the City.”  
  
“That’s probably partly why Guardians are so scary- we never see you. We go about our daily lives as best we can, until without warning or preamble, your dinner reverie is interrupted by a Hunter- “ He pointed his thumb behind him. “- bad enough. But you, a mountain of a Warlock, always spells trouble. But our existence depends on you guys, so we comply.”  
  
“You dislike Guardians.”  
  
“I don’t, truly. If I’m honest, I’m a little jealous of your immortality- wondrous powers be damned. But to me, your existence is evidence of a deepy unbalanced and unfair universe.”  
  
“I can’t say I disagree, Adjunct.” She took a bite of the curry- it was, in truth, excellent.  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“You have family, yeah?”  
  
“I do.”  
  
“How did they fare during the Red War?”  
  
The Awoken’s expression darkened.  
  
“Poorly. My sister died resisting the Legion.”  
  
“You have my sympathies, Adjunct. But to your point, that is all I can offer you. I remember nothing of my previous life. I know what ‘sister’ means, but to my knowledge, I’ve never felt it. If the universe were fair, it would be you wielding these powers to save your sister, and I would rest in peace.” She took another large bite. This was a good reason to live as any.  
  
“Still, here we are. And, as you say, wondrous powers be damned, we need your help. We are not omniscient.”  
  
“Thank the Traveler for that! You’d all be insufferable.”  
  
Nemo smirked around a bite of curry.  
  
“Some of us are already.”  
  
The Adjunct barked a laugh.  
  
“I can only imagine. Please, call me Vister.”  
  
“I am Nemo, this is-” What was Gypsy to her? Partner would work for now. “-my partner, Gypsy-3.”  
  
“Nemo? Seriously? Was your Ghost having a laugh?”  
  
She sighed.  
  
“Am I the only one who didn’t know what it meant?”  
  
Carrix whispered into her ear from wherever he was hidden.  
  
“I didn’t. But I had a lovely name picked out. I don’t even know where you got ‘Nemo’.”  
  
“Aw, who told you?” Vister seemed crestfallen at the missed opportunity.  
  
She pointed a finger at the exo and took a bite. Vister waved it away, trying to placate her.  
  
“It’s not common knowledge. Latin, even after it went extinct thousands of years before the Golden Age, enjoyed a long healthy retirement as a ‘magical’ language in popular culture. What little we know about it comes from texts of that period. Just your luck to come across an Adjunct with a passion for dead languages. Where did you find it?”  
  
“I didn’t. It was a sound that came to me shorty after I was risen. I know it wasn’t my original name, but obviously I don’t know what that is. Can we get back to the Sink?”  
  
“Right! Of course. The wall.”  
  
“They said you had found the chamber and were investigating when the Vex showed up.”  
  
“Yeah, my pilot radioed and said he saw them warping in. I still owe him for the holes in his ship.”  
  
“They fired on you?”  
  
“Yes. Kiehl is an excellent pilot, however.”  
  
Nemo shared a glance with Gypsy. He had to be more than excellent, or even lucky. Either Kiehl was both and more, or the Vex hadn’t been trying to kill him.  
  
“What led you to the chamber in the first place?”  
  
“I found references to an unknown Vex interface in the Ishtar records. It seems the chamber had been found in the Golden Age, when they were still trying to figure out the Vex, and any data was good data. This was just prior to the whole paracausal fiasco.”  
  
“The what?”  
  
“Oh, I love this story. It seems that a group of researchers at the Collective actually recovered a working Vex and were trying to reverse engineer its thinking structure. What they found was that the Vex was simulating them and their actions to a frightening degree of accuracy.”  
  
“I think my Ghost mentioned this in passing. Isn’t that what the Vex are known for?”  
  
“We can say that now, but in the Golden Age, it was evidently terrifying to imagine that. Think of it this way. You recover a working artifact from ancient ruins that can think. You decide to figure out how it thinks. Maybe Clovis Bray or someone can use it to make better Warminds. Except inside its brain, you find yourself and all your colleagues doing all the things they normally do. Even your ‘wacky’ colleague fails to surprise you, since the Vex had already simulated it.”  
  
“I can see how that would be unsettling.”  
  
“Worse than unsettling. Because inside this mind, you also find the Vex itself. The Vex is simulating itself simulating the simulation. And, due to the nature of the Vex, it wasn’t just simulating you once, but multiple times, exploring multiple lines of causality.”  
  
“What.” It wasn’t a question, more an admission of being totally lost. Her fork scraped against the bowl. Looking down, she realized she had finished. She felt a little sad.  
  
“Ok. So inside the Vex its simulating you, your team, and your lab, right? So perfectly it can predict your movements, even the ones you try to surprise it with. What else is in your lab? The Vex that’s doing the simulation. So what do you see in the simulation? A smaller Vex. And what is that Vex doing? The same thing your Vex is doing. Simulating what’s happening in the lab to a frightening degree of accuracy. What is that smaller Vex simulating? You, your team, and your lab. Which contains an even smaller Vex, which is doing what Vex do. Simulating.”  
  
“It’s simulations all the way down.”  
  
“Yes, but this is where it gets paracausal. The researchers recognize that the simulations of them are doing the same things they are doing, for the same reasons, and with the same assumptions of free will. Whatever choice they make, there is a simulation that follows suit, and at least one that does not- usually several. So what’s to say that the lab that has the Vex is not itself a simulation. If it goes all the way down, why not all the way up?”  
  
“Uh.”  
  
Gypsy let out a low whistle.  
  
“Exactly. The team had already determined that there was no way to surprise the Vex. Humans are just too simple. They couldn’t risk destroying the Vex- because if they were just a simulation, they’d cease to exist.”  
  
“But they’d be destroying a simulation.”  
  
“Perhaps, but have you ever held up two mirrors facing each other? Perfect reflections, reaching to infinity in both directions. One thing does not happen in a reflection that does not happen to all of them, including the origin. If they were a perfect reflection, and they destroyed the Vex, it would only be because the origin lab did the same thing. In which case the simulation as a whole blinks out.” Vister snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”  
  
“That would drive you nuts.”  
  
“It nearly did them. They decided to bring in a more complex consciousness to try and buck the simulation. They consulted a Warmind. By the time the Warmind stepped in, they had been able to identify a full 227 versions of themselves inside this Vex, meaning that at best the researchers had a 1 in 228 chance of being the real thing. This Warmind- I believe it was Rasputin- managed to somehow rescue them and all iterations of them, isolated the simulations, and released them into the Vex to...continue, I guess? It’s not said, or hasn’t been found. Then they (the actual researchers, as far as we could tell) each moved on to different projects, leaving the Warmind to monitor the Vex. We don’t really know what became of it. In any case, the chamber I found, or re-discovered, predates this event by only a little bit. Perhaps a year or two.”  
  
“Alright.” Truthfully, Nemo was glad to change the topic. This added a new level of danger to the Vex threat. If they could see everything before it happened, and existed across time, what was preventing them from wiping humanity out altogether? On the surface, it was the Guardians, but couldn’t the Vex just simulate them as well? She resolved to ask Arthus.  
  
“The records I found indicated that there was a room, a cave, really, that featured a blank wall exhibiting Vex technology. There was an interface pedestal, but it didn’t seem to really do anything. They noticed a small slot on it, and assumed it was a keyhole.”  
  
“That’s what my Ghost found. He said it was like there were tools waiting to be used, but no executive processes to use them.”  
  
“I guessed as much. The concern I had was that in all of the ruins across the whole system that we have uncovered, this pedestal is utterly unique. A physical key to access Vex tech is unheard of.”  
  
“Completely?” Rare, surely, but unique?  
  
“Completely. It doesn’t happen. My assumption was that whatever was hidden behind that wall, it was done for good reason. Naturally I had to see it for myself.”  
  
“Naturally.” Nemo could empathize. Her own curiosity drove her to strange choices.  
  
“Using the location data from the records, I was able to track down the cave. I was only able to scan the pedestal itself before the Vex started pouring in.”  
  
“You were in the cave? How did you escape if they were already there?”  
  
“Just because you’re the only ones who can’t die, doesn’t mean you’re the only ones who can kill. I knew Venus wasn’t totally safe, despite what the Vanguard said, so I came armed. It was only a few Goblins at that point, so I was able to make it back to Kiehl.”  
  
There was something about his story that stank. Nemo didn’t exactly think Vister was lying to her, but his description of Vex behavior was...inconsistent with what she knew of Vex. She’d sort it out as soon as she had a chance to speak with Gypsy in private.  
  
“You said you scanned the pedestal. What did you find?”  
  
“Same as you, I think. A bunch of programs and applications waiting for an executor.”  
  
“Did it tell you anything about the key?”  
  
“Such as where it is? No. I can only give you general guesses as to what it might look like.”  
  
“Small, probably fit in your hand?”  
  
“Yes, but I think I can do better.” Vister pulled out a hard light sketch from a portable display. He began to describe the artifact in exact dimensions, using his hands to approximate them. As soon as she laid eyes on the sketch, Nemo felt a specific kind of aggravation. This object looked terribly familiar. The aggravation was with herself for not thinking of it. But then, as Vister said, a physical Vex key was unheard of.  
  
“Vister, I’m going to stop you right there. Carrix?”  
  
“Who-” Vister started to ask, but then fell silent. Carrix materialized from somewhere and lit the table with a beam of light. In short order, the “rock” she had recovered from the lab prior to the fight with the Fallen lay on the table.  
  
Vister put his hands down and stared at the object. It wasn’t as long as his description, but was fairly close in all other respects. His next question was very quiet.  
  
“Where did you get this?”  
  
“A lab on Venus. Recently destroyed by Fallen activity. I hadn’t seen the chamber yet, so I had no clue what I was looking at. I didn’t until you showed me your sketch.” She didn’t know how much civilians knew about Guardian protocol, so she decided to keep her personal stakes out of it.  
  
“I shit on those troglodytes.” Vister’s heart wasn’t in it, though. “May I?” He indicated the key on the table. She gestured for him to go ahead. Gypsy’s attention was fixed on the key as well. The crowd had cleared out finally, and Nemo could see around her. She breathed a little easier.  
  
Vister gently turned the key over in his hands, examining it from all angles. “What do you know about its workings?”  
  
“Nothing.” Nemo chose her words carefully. There was no good reason for her to have been in that lab, so she didn’t want to make it sound very unusual. “Like I said, I had no idea what it might be. Vex keys don’t exist, right? We didn’t bother to scan it at all.”  
  
“Why pick it up then? What brought you to the lab?”  
  
_Shit. _  
  
“The Fallen I mentioned. I picked them up on the street and chased them inside. I picked it up because I thought it might be interesting. Just not this interesting.”  
  
Vister was quiet a moment. He seemed to accept that. You know, Guardian business. As in not yours.  
  
“I’d like to examine this in more detail. Would you both follow me to my office?”  
  
“After you, Ad-uh, Vister.”__

____

While they walked, Gypsy beckoned to Nemo to fall a little behind. They whispered, Ghost to Ghost.  
  
“Concerning.”  
  
“Yeah, it is. Those Vex he described are acting nothing like Vex.”  
  
“Lying.”  
  
“Doubtful. I just think we don’t have the whole picture.”  
  
“You are attracted to him.”  
  
Nemo blushed in spite of herself.  
  
“Regardless. He’s an Adjunct to the Cryptarchy. How much would he know about Vex in the field? He couldn’t know that they were acting funny. Why would he lie about their behavior?”  
  
“Alternate theory?”  
  
“It almost sounds like they chased him off. Sending only Goblins, then not actually shooting him down? They wanted him to escape.”  
  
“Conjecture.”  
  
“Yes, but it fits. They send in a presence to demonstrate that it’s important, but let the one person who knows about it escape- He’s Awoken, a cryptarch, what’s he going to do?”  
  
“Return. Investigate. Research. They wouldn’t know.”  
  
“You heard what Vister said about the Vex simulation during the Golden Age. It’s dangerous to assume what they don’t know. The Vex know what’s in there, but they don’t know where the key is. Somehow their simulations missed it. That’s what they were searching for. They let him go so he could find it and come back. You are a Guardian, little to no evidenced interest in the past. No reason to let you live. Also, you know, Guardian. Mortal enemy.”  
  
“They will be waiting for us to open the wall. Ambush after it is done.”  
  
“We’re gonna need more firepower.”

____


	5. Hyla Medun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes find help- after a fashion.

Entry: March 7th, year 384 of the City Age  
  
I ended up at the Guardian barracks for the first time in probably weeks. In this regard, I guess I’m not all that different from other Guardians. My billet is more a closet than a room, but it has a bed, a desk/sink thing, a chair, and a small closet on the off chance I have something I don’t want to keep in trans-mat. Some of the older Guardians like to have keepsakes of their exploits to decorate their walls, but I don’t really have many exploits to boast about. Maybe when we figure out this Vex chamber, I can put the key on my desk.  
  
Gypsy and I came back here because there wasn’t really anything else to do. Once Vister started working, it was like we ceased to exist. I guess academics all have that in common. I didn’t want to leave the key with him, but as Gypsy pointed out, what was he going to do with it? Sneak off and go to Venus himself? Pass it on to another Guardian? She’s right, but it’s the only link to my past at this point, even though she couldn’t know that. Sue me for being protective.  
  
We agreed that we need backup before going back to Venus, but there was nothing to do about it that late at night. There are Guardians coming and going at all hours, but they tend to have urgent business of their own. We needed to come back to the Tower to find someone anyway. This way we’re on site.  
  
We also agreed that we should first look for a Titan. We could coordinate a larger team with more firepower if need be, but it would be a hassle to try. A Titan was our best option, if we could find one to spare. Titans are the backbone of the Vanguard. They tend to be the most aggressive, most direct, and most willful. Because of this, their Light manifests in very direct ways. Their strength is essential to not just rebuilding the City, but patrolling it and keeping it safe.  
  
The Titan orders also took the greatest number of casualties among the Lightless Guardians that assaulted the City at the end of the war, no surprise there. Old habits died hard, and when your instinct is always to rush headlong into a fight, you tend to keep doing that, even if you’re suddenly mortal. Sink to your level of training, as they say.  
  
There are a good number of Titans among the youngest generation of Guardians, but they are by nature new and untested, and largely needed here in the City. But between a Warlock and a Hunter, neither of them could take the punishment a Titan could. So in terms of bang for your buck, a Titan accomplice would be ideal.  
  
And that means seeing the Vanguard.  
  
In the morning, I found Gypsy pacing outside my door. They say Hunters and exos rarely sleep, and Gypsy being both means she probably didn’t sleep at all- not that it makes her any less deadly.  
  
The Tower is kind of a misnomer these days. There used to be an actual Tower, back before I was risen, and you can still see the smoking ruins of it from the current Tower. Dominus Ghaul and his Red Legion flew straight into it at the onset of the war, so everyone who survived was forced to relocate to a couple of spare hangars nearby. They still called it the Tower out of habit, I guess.  
  
One of the things that gets to me (and I think Gypsy too- it’s really inefficient) is that there’s no real place one can go to find a fireteam. It’s like they assume you already have one, or don’t need one. Makes it hard to meet anyone. So we did the next best thing and bugged people if they knew a Titan that wasn’t otherwise engaged. One of the frames assisting Lord Shaxx actually was able to tell us about a Guardian who had run into some trouble in the City- the personal kind. He wouldn’t say more, but it was the only lead we found. Tonight Gypsy and I are headed back out into the City to see if we can track this Guardian down. Her name is Hyla Medun.

  


Many of the bars and ramen shops had closed up, and even here in the South Quarter, it was quiet. Not silent, like cities never are, but quiet, as though all the activity had simply gone elsewhere. Nighttime in the CIty was very different from other places Nemo had been. It was darker, for one. With the shadow of the Traveler looming over the City, most of the stars and much of the moon’s path were blocked from view. Their way was lit by neon signs and viciously bright street lamps that were unevenly spaced. There was no real danger here to a Guardian, but it made travel something you had to keep your mind on. It was this not-silence that was broken by Aepho.  
  
“Carrix, are you hearing this?”  
  
“Yeah, let’s not…” But she was already moving off.  
  
“Carrix, what is it?” Nemo traded confused looks with Gypsy.  
  
“There’s another Ghost off that way.” He bobbed vaguely in a direction, off the main streets.  
  
“Is it speaking?”  
  
“Yes, but...not to us.”  
  
“Then…?”  
  
“Here.” Carrix pushed the Ghost chatter through so both Guardians could hear it.  
  
“Come on, you stupid, blue-haired jake. Get up.”  
  
Gypsy and Nemo exchanged raised eyebrows. The Ghost carried on.  
  
“I swear by the Traveler, if you die on me like this, am no bringing you back! Get up!”  
  
“Is he talking to his Guardian?” Nemo whispered.  
  
Gypsy shrugged. They began walking towards the Ghost, wondering what they were about to step into.  
  
“I’ll find another Guardian, I swear. One who ain’t such a pain in my arse.”  
  
Nemo didn’t think that was possible, per se. Also, this had to be the gruffest Ghost she’d ever encountered.  
  
Aepho was already there.  
  
“Hello? Do you need help?”  
  
“Oh, that’s just fucking great.”  
  
“I’m sorry?”  
  
“Come to the last district you’d expect to run into another Guardian ta get mad wae it, and we find two such dobbers, just nosy enough to come wanderin’ down the close.”  
  
“Is your Guardian ok?”  
  
“NO, she’s not ok! Look at her. She’s completely pooched!”  
  
Nemo and Gypsy came around the corner to see the two Ghosts hovering over the crumpled form of an Awoken Guardian. She lay half buried in refuse, and though Nemo couldn’t see any obvious wounds, the Guardian didn’t respond to her Ghost, or to anything else.  
  
“Well, help her up!” Aepho was indignant.  
  
“Oh nae danger, that’s just what she wants. Stupid boot wants to get herself melted on ether and expects me to keep her from getting withdrawal symptoms. No, she’s doing this on her own.”  
  
“That’s not Hyla Medun, by any chance.”  
  
“She has that shan, aye.”  
  
Nemo and Gypsy shared a sidelong glance.  
  
“ _Fuck. _” Nemo had not heard Gypsy swear before. It was oddly comforting that she could, when the occasion called for it.__  
  
Ether was a compressible nutrient gas manufactured by the Fallen. Their physiology developed on a planet far from here, with a radically different atmosphere, and their armor was vac-sealed to keep each Fallen submerged in ether at all times. It wasn’t the most unusual technology- The Cabal legions did the same thing, except it was also rocket fuel, of all things- but it was unique in that it got humans and Awoken very, very high. Whenever a Fallen cache was raided, ether would come into the City by unknown means and disperse among the City districts. The Vanguard had been trying to shut it down for decades, but had had little luck.  
  
For citizens of the CIty, it was dangerous. The high was supposed to be very intense, eliciting euphoria and delirium with a bevy of spectacular visual hallucinations, but the come down was frequently lethal. It could kill a Guardian, too, in all fairness, but naturally death didn’t tend to stick to them. Still, the Vanguard banned its use, feeling that if Guardians used it, it would only encourage other citizens to try.  
  
It did help explain why this Guardian was laying face down in a gutter in the middle of the South Quarter, instead of either sleeping or on work detail. It also explained why that Crucible frame hadn’t really wanted to go into detail, and why this Titan wasn’t assigned to another work detail.  
  
“Ghost-” Nemo wasn’t ready to give up yet.  
  
“Banquo.”  
  
“Banquo, can I ask why you aren’t helping her?”  
  
Banquo harrumphed, a big sound for a little machine.  
  
“I dinnae care if Guardians are _technically _immune to addiction, and _technically _immortal. This dim Reef-scrap spends all her waking hours chasing ether. ‘For the good of the City,’ she says. ‘Push the Fallen off Earth! Take our planet back!’” Banquo switched to a comically high voice for the Guardian’s parts. “Its bollocks. She raids their little nests for ether, then comes back here and disappears up her own napper for days at a time. I’m done coverin’ for her. She’s useless li’ah’. To me, to the Tower, to herself.” WIth that, he started trans-matting the refuse around him and hurling it at the comatose Guardian. If Ghost emotions were a reflection of the Guardians’, this Awoken had some deep, deep issues.____  
  
But she was a Titan. A spare Titan, no less.  
  
“Banquo, can you get her on a ship?”  
  
“Pish! She’s barely conscious! There’s no way she can fly.”  
  
“Not her ship. A different one. Let’s take her to Venus.”  
  
Gypsy and all three Ghosts immediately erupted with a variety of protests- they ranged from ‘that’s kidnapping’ to ‘what good will that do’ to ‘she’ll be no good in a fight’ and ‘dinnae, ya honkin’ fud.’” Nemo waited until they had run out of things to say. _A whating what? ___  
  
“Gypsy, this is the Guardian that frame told us about. This was literally our only lead in finding firepower, unless you’d like to go back to Kerala and tell her why you can’t complete your task. There is no one else available. I don’t really like it either, but-” She turned to Banquo.  
  
“-this might be the best thing for her. Fewer Fallen on Venus, no ship of her own, and Vex to kill. You want her to get clean? Help us put her on a ship.”  
  
“In the name of feck, fir wye? What’s on Venus? Aside from the Vex.”  
  
“I can explain it better on the way, but shortly: There’s something new there we need to check out. We’ll be escorting a Cryptarch.”  
  
“Trap.” Gypsy chimed in. “Need more guns.”  
  
“Well, ether aside, this bloostered numpty do alright inna square go. I cannae leave her here.”  
  
“We’ll put her in cargo on the Cryptarch’s ship. She can sleep it off there.”  
  
Carrix whimpered, “This is going to go so badly.” He drew out the “so” like a deflating balloon.  
  
Banquo sighed. “Aye, that it will. But it’s better than leaving her in the plab.”  
  
Gypsy leaned in close to whisper.  
  
“Vister hired a ship.”  
  
“Hopefully he can do it again.”  
  
“And if not?”  
  
“We’ll see. I have cargo on mine, but she’ll be far less comfortable.”  
  
“Far less friendly.”  
  
“That’s...almost a given.”


	6. Beyond the Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vexation abounds.

Entry: March 9th, year 384 if the City Age  
  
Two days later and we’re finally getting back to Venus. I haven’t had a chance to write since then. In short, Vister was actually able to hire the same ship, with the pilot named Kiehl Vos. Problem was, he couldn’t do it until the following evening. So we had a blitzed out Guardian to babysit while Vister finished his tests (he did give me a brief rundown of what they were for, I’ll come back to that.). He was none too pleased to have her unceremoniously dumped on his office floor, but there wasn’t a lot he could do about it. I felt a little bad for imposing on him like that. It didn’t occur to me to be an issue until after the fact, though. It seems the Guardian’s imperative of “success at any cost” is not really a motivational slogan. It’s just what we do.  
  
For much of the day, it was myself, Gypsy, our Ghosts, and Banquo left to our devices while Vister muttered in the background. He said (eventually) that he was running simulations through it to see how it responded, to see if there were any damaged processes, things like that. I guess because this piece contained all the executable commands, it was easier to do that for than for the pedestal. So far as he can tell, the key works perfectly. It remains to be seen if the lock does as well.  
  
As I promised, I spoke to Banquo at length about what we were flying into. He agrees that the Vex in Vister’s tale were acting oddly. He would have wanted backup, too. It seems Hyla Medun has been around a bit longer than Gypsy or I. She’s old enough to have lived through the Red War, when all Guardians except one lost the Light and were, during the most dangerous period of the City’s history, completely mortal. Just them and guns like everyone else. Banquo says that’s when this ether business started with Hyla. I guess she’d been having visions of a Traveler’s shard somewhere in Europe that was beckoning her. She had been too afraid to follow it without her Light, and when that one Guardian came back with her Light thanks to that same shard…  
  
I don’t know if that makes it shame or guilt or both on Hyla’s part. She was once deeply devoted to the Traveler, Banquo said, and when her light returned and news spread about that Guardian, something broke in her. I guess she was looking for escape. I can relate to that, at least.  
  
Amazingly, Hyla slept the whole day and into the night. Banquo didn’t seem the least bit worried. He said it was pretty normal. The ether high itself doesn’t last all that long, but as it wears off, it leaves people deeply exhausted. Any mortal has a high risk of slipping into a coma and just never waking up.  
  
Hyla seems to be a time bomb, like Banquo. It was as much of a fiasco as predicted when she awoke on Vister’s ship. Gypsy and I of course took our own wings, but Kiehl happily relayed the exchange through for us.  
  
At some point in mid flight, Banquo mentioned that she woke up and went to check on her. I sadly don’t recall word for word how the exchange went down, but Hyla alternated between shouting at the gruff little Ghost and whispering pleas to have him make it stop. I kind of envy what Vister and Kiehl could hear through the bulkhead.  
  
It seems a little cruel for a Ghost to not heal his Guardian like that, but insofar as Ghosts are considered separate personalities, I get where he’s coming from. It’s like...I can’t really say. I guess if somehow Carrix was in the same situation Hyla is, I’d be upset and trying to do what’s best for him. I can’t say I regret what I did, but I’m not looking forward to meeting her face to face on the ground. She’ll probably hit me.

She did.  
  
Within seconds of formally meeting the Titan, Nemo found herself sitting in the yellowish dust of Venus with an aching jaw. Her fighting instincts kicked in, but she held herself back. She couldn’t really blame the woman. Carrix floated in to heal the bruise that was quickly forming, but Nemo waved him off. She had earned it, after all. Let it heal naturally.  
  
It would have been worse, probably, but when Nemo looked up, Banquo had lit Hyla up with some kind of beam that froze her in place. She hadn’t known Ghosts could do that, but she was thankful. Instead, the titan hung on the air, balanced on one foot, and for the first time, Nemo was able to get a good look at her. Taller even than herself, with pale lavender skin and bright green hair, she sported a strange tattoo that stretched across one eye. Her hair was done up in some extreme asymmetrical mohawk that ended in a long braid hanging over her right shoulder, not uncommon for Awoken. Her face was contorted in a look of rage, but that wasn’t the Ghost’s doing.  
  
“Alrigh’, lass. You’re no about to pan no one’s nut.”  
  
“Let me go, Banquo! We’ve been shanghai’d by this pair of dregs.”  
  
“Aye, and I said they could. I tol’ you that already. It’s no really shanghai’in if you give ‘em permission.”  
  
“You don’t speak for me.”  
  
“Beggin’ yer pardon, but ah do. I’m the only thing keeping you alive.”  
  
“I can handle myself.”  
  
“That’s not what I mean.” The Ghost floated around so he was inches from her face.  
  
“I mean, I am the reason you are alive. Without me, you’d still be a corpse on the outskirts of the EDZ. Since then, without me, you’d have been killed any number of times by the Fallen. And I’m the only reason you haven’t blasted yer brains out with ether long since.”  
  
“The Traveler’s Light-”  
  
“Flows through me, wench. I’m the closest thing you’ll ever see to the Traveler’s face. I’m the one you talk to. I’m the one who answers your prayers. You literally do not exist without me.”  
  
“I didn’t ask for this.”  
  
“Whinge about it on your own time. Until then, play the hand you’re dealt, wean.”  
  
For a moment, Hyla didn’t respond. She tried to catch her breath and shake the tears from her eyes. Banquo continued.  
  
“In the meantime, you have a job to do. These lovely lasses who saw in you something even I don’t, need your help getting this Cryptarch past a bunch of Vex to look at a bloody great wall. Can you do that?”  
  
Silence.  
  
Banquo floated closer and said something Nemo couldn’t hear. Hyla’s face turned a darker shade Nemo took for flushed with shame.  
  
“Wipe that peely wally look off your face and let’s go.”  
  
With a snarl, she nodded and Banquo released her. The first words she ever said to Nemo were simply,  
  
“Which way?”  
  
In retrospect, that could probably have summed up their entire relationship.  
  
Nemo turned to the Cryptarch, who’d been sitting with the pilot awkwardly not watching the exchange. She gestured into the jungle, roughly in the direction of the cave.  
  
“Vister? Lead the way.”

The trek to the caverns was largely uneventful. The jungle that filled the Sink seemed even thicker than it had just a few days ago. The canopy blocked so much of the sunlight that they could have passed Vex patrols on opposite sides of a tree and not seen them. It may have happened that way- they only ever crossed one patrol, which was quickly dispatched.  
  
In the passages leading to the cavern, they passed several Fallen corpses. Fallen, Nemo knew, liked to find dark hidden places to raise their young and manufacture ether. These were dregs, the lowest of the low in Fallen hierarchies, and were probably scouting a new home for their clan. They had been slaughtered, clearly by Vex weapons. The Guardians felt little sympathy for them- Fallen had nearly overwhelmed the CIty in the past, and the animosity ran deep between humanity and Fallen. Hyla kicked one as she passed.  
  
“Looking for somethin’ are ya?” Banquo appeared suddenly, his voice full of reproach.  
  
Hyla snarled at him and moved on.  
  
The cave was more or less as they had left it- empty. Reaching the chamber, they saw that the transformative processes of the Vex had noticeably advanced. Fully half of the cavern was now decked out in Vex substrate, shimmering red against bone white, lit by lights and beams of unknown purpose. Though there was no sign of the Vex now, they certainly had not been idle in the time between Nemo and Gypsy leaving, and the entire party returning. It made Vister visibly edgy.  
  
“I assumed there’d be any Vex at all, if not more than I saw. If my assumptions about this wall are correct, this should be a fortress.”  
  
“Yes.” Gypsy replied evenly.  
  
“What?”  
  
“What she means is it should be. A fortress.” Nemo shared his unease.  
  
Hyla let out a grunt of impatience.  
  
“So then where is everyone?”  
  
“That’s the question. When my mentor gave me this assignment, he said it should be quiet, that there would be regular patrols coming through keeping the Vex presence to a minimum. Yet when I came through, It was largely empty. Two patrols here in the room itself, and only a handful of Goblins outside. Gypsy got here before I did.” Nemo spoke quietly, as if using her usual volume would summon the monster machines. “Tell them what you told me.”  
  
“Found fewer Vex. Snuck into cave, made it here, died. Was not revived until Nemo arrived.”  
  
“Died? From two patrols?” Hyla was skeptical.  
  
“No. Something else. Huge, unseen, unstoppable.”  
  
“So then where is it?”  
  
Nemo looked around her as she replied.  
  
“I don’t know. It wasn’t here when I arrived, or if it was, it didn’t bother to stop us.  
  
“That’s still more than when I first arrived.” Vister did not hide his fear well. “Could they be just slowly building their forces?”  
  
Nemo shook her head.  
  
“Not this slowly. Vex incursions usually start with a few Goblins to reconnoiter the site, then they respond with appropriate strength- two Guardians should have brought a lot more Vex- a lot. They also do not miss easily.”  
  
“They didn’t- Kiehl had to have his ship patched.”  
  
“I saw the plating, Adjunct. Those were not critical areas, and glancing blows besides.” Hyla was stubbornly formal with the Cryptarch, probably as a way to show resentment. “You were never in danger from the Vex. You were chased off.” She sat down and began tuning her rifle and checking the sights.  
  
Vister paled.  
  
“But why? What purpose would that serve?”  
  
Nemo felt sorry for him. This might be common for a Guardian, but for him, it was all new and all terrible. She tried to explain gently.  
  
“Remember that story you told me about the Vex mind in the Ishtar lab, the perfect reflections?”  
  
“Yes…?”  
  
“We know the Vex have the ability to simulate actions unerringly before they occur. If that’s the case, they knew you were coming to the cave. They also very likely knew that you were a Cryptarch. You said it yourself- naturally, you had to see this place in person. What was your next step?”  
  
“To try and find the key, but-”  
  
“Which you would do all the more urgently if you knew they valued this place. For whatever reason they couldn’t simulate the location of the key, so they were counting on you to find it and bring it back.”  
  
“But you found the key- if you hadn’t followed the Fallen into that lab, we wouldn’t be here.”  
  
“That where I get lost.”  
  
“It seems a gamble to count on you finding it, bringing it out, and coming to me. An unfounded hope, even. That doesn’t seem like the Vex.”  
  
“It’s not like them at all. They work on the balance of probability in any case where it isn’t already certain.” Something clicked in Nemo’s mind, and she could feel the excitement of an epiphany coming on. Her voice rose in volume to match. “I’m working on a guess here, but it seems like they simulated the wall opening, but not how it happened, since they couldn’t find the key.”  
  
“How could they simulate something without the direct cause?”  
  
“Have you ever heard of the Infinite Forest?” Hyla chimed in. Her rifle, it seemed, was in perfect working order. She sounded bored.  
  
“Rumors, mostly. Something to do with Osiris.” Even as a Cryptarch, Vister had only heard about as much as anyone else- the former Warlock Vanguard had disappeared for many years, only to resurface on Mercury only a short time ago. He was notoriously obsessed with the Vex.  
  
“The Infinite Forest is the Black Garden writ large. The whole of Mercury has been transformed by the Vex into a simulator- one that operates on every possible outcome of every choice, looking for the key to crushing the Last City.”  
  
“That doesn’t sound a little self-important to you?”  
  
Hyla shrugged.  
  
“Doesn’t matter what I think. Point is, the Vex exist across time, and the Infinite Forest simulates every stage of the system, from the forgotten past when Mercury was a garden world to the distant future where the sun is dark and there is nothing but Vex- forever. There’s two ways of approaching a problem. You can start from where you are and work forward, or start where you want to be, and work backwards. The Vex do both. And it all comes back to the Last City, somehow.”  
  
“But what does that have to do with this wall?”  
  
Hyla rolled her eyes. Nemo took the opportunity to jump back in.  
  
“Vister, your thinking is too linear. The Vex approach all their problems from both ends. Infinite perfect reflections in both directions.”  
  
Vister gasped. He was getting as excited as Nemo felt, in spite of the implications. A true academic.  
  
“They only knew it was going to open because of what happens after it opens!”  
  
“Which means it wasn’t even a possibility- that wall is going to open. And when it does, we’ll all be glad we brought the extra muscle.” Nemo indicated the Titan, who was no longer following the conversation. She was inspecting her rifle again. Gypsy had her brows furrowed in confusion.  
  
“Because of what’s behind it?”  
  
“Because they’re going to try to kill us as soon as we do. They weren’t tricking you into thinking it was important to them- it is. They were telling you in the only way they could.”  
  
Vister fidgeted silently for a moment.  
  
“That’s a hell of a guess, but I don’t have a better one. If they want it that badly, why don’t we just walk away?”  
  
“We could, theoretically, but we won’t. They’ve already seen the wall open.”  
  
“There’s no such thing as free will, you mean.”  
  
Nemo gave the Cryptarch a disapproving frown.  
  
“That’s unnecessarily dramatic. I mean they’ve already done the math. So let’s you and I do it. Three of us are Guardians. We are tasked with preserving humanity at any cost. What are the odds we could afford to let an opportunity like this pass us by? Something the Vex want could be something turned against them. You are a Cryptarch- you live solely to uncover the past. The mystery here is irresistible. Are you going to be comfortable with spending the rest of your life wondering what was behind that wall? Someday you will cave, if we don’t do it now.”  
  
The Cryptarch was true to his nature, and slumped his shoulders in resignation.  
  
“We’re going to open the wall.”  
  
“We are.”  
  
“They’re going to kill us.”  
  
“They’re going to try. The fact that they couldn’t find the key means that there are some things they cannot predict. Let’s hope we’re one of those things.”  
  
“We’re doing it, then?” Hyla seemed suddenly interested, now that the prospect of killing something was again on the table.  
  
“Yeah.” Looking around, Nemo was surprised to find that they were all looking to her for some kind of guidance.  
  
“Call it, boss.”  
  
“Orders.”  
  
She turned to the Cryptarch, who put up his hands defensively.  
  
“Don’t look at me, Guardian. This is your rodeo. None of us would be here if not for you.”  
  
In just a few days, Nemo had gone from lonely outsider to erstwhile leader of her own fireteam, if they could be called that. Nemo was certain Hyla would abandon them as soon as they got back to the City, and Gypsy’s motives were always her own. She was pretty sure Vister would never leave the Cryptarchy again. That was their choice, though. It was up to her that they be around to make it.  
  
“Ok. Once we open the wall, Vister, stick to Hyla like glue. Hyla, your primary goal is defense. Gypsy and I can handle the Vex as long as we have a fall back point. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll have plenty to shoot as well.” Hyla’s sour look softened somewhat. “Gypsy, you’re rear guard. Find a dark spot and go nuts. I’ll try to take ‘em down as fast as possible. Vister, you still have your sidearm?”  
  
The Cryptarch drew a small handgun from his waist.  
  
“Don’t get brave. If they come to you, you know where to hit them.”  
  
“No worries on that count.” The Cryptarch looked pale.  
  
“Alright. Um, let’s move out.” Nemo felt like she was missing something, but couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Like leaving the stove on when you leave the house.  
  
The pedestal was exactly where they had left it, somewhat more accessible now due to the regular nature of Vex architecture.  
  
Nemo handed the key over to Vister, who handled it delicately. He paused for a moment.  
  
“I feel like there should be some ceremony for this- who knows what we’ll see in there?”  
  
“Save the speeches for when we get home, Adjunct.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
It took him a second to align the key properly. Once it was aligned, he stood back. The key hovered before the pedestal for just a moment before sliding in under its own power.  
  
“It just...grabbed the key.”  
  
Unlike the more mobile Vex frames, Vex architecture didn’t click or whirr as it worked. The round depression that held the key spun silently for a moment, then a towering grid of light, characteristic of Vex datalattice, grew out of the pedestal. Individual blocks in the lattice shifted, then the wall began to move. Like a massive shifting puzzle, bits and pieces of Vex substrate began to move around each other, slowly forming a large ring about 7 feet across at ground level against the wall. The ring was then crisscrossed by its own grid of light, which took on a fluid appearance.  
  
“I expected the wall to disappear, or a door to open, something…”  
  
Vister looked confused, but the Guardians all recognized it for what it was- a Vex gate, a traversable wormhole to somewhere and- sometimes- somewhen else.  
  
“That is a door.” Hyla spoke quietly, more than serious now.  
  
“Unknown. Untested. Unsafe.”  
  
Nemo was instead looking around the cavern. There was still no sign of Vex incursions. Whatever they were waiting for, it hadn’t happened yet.  
  
“It’s not the door itself.”  
  
“What?” Vister was out of his depth.  
  
“The door isn’t the point. That’s why they haven’t attacked yet. The event they were trying to simulate, it wasn’t the door.”  
  
“That... actually makes sense.” Presented with a question Vister seemed more steady on his feet, as if putting his mind to work grounded him. “If they built the door, why couldn’t they simply dismantle it?”  
  
“Its a uniquely complex door, Vister. Those moving blocks are as unheard of as the physical key. We could dismantle a vault door, but most of us don’t.”  
  
“Yes, but you’re assuming a few things. Most importantly that Vex would want to isolate something from other Vex.”  
  
“Networked intelligences have no secrets.” Gypsy seemed to grasp what the Cryptarch was saying.  
  
He took Nemo by the arms.  
  
“Now I’ve got some math for you. The Vex built a vault. The Vex don’t have secrets from themselves- who is the vault for?”  
  
“Someone or something not Vex”  
  
“Second assumption- that it is in fact a vault. Why else build a fortified structure?”  
  
“A prison.” Vister nodded. Nemo continued. “Or...a safehouse? A bunker?”  
  
“Questions build on themselves- who or what is being protected, and from what?”  
  
“Anything humanity would need protection from would be a boon to the Vex. They’d have no reason to do this.”  
  
“Ergo…” Vister was visibly excited. He seemed to enjoy drawing the answer out of Nemo like this.  
  
“It’s not for us. It’s from us.”  
  
“That can be safely assumed, I think. Anyone else would have been killed outright, like those Fallen.”  
  
“Then why are they letting us in?”  
  
Vister could only shrug.  
  
“The depends entirely on what they were protecting from us. The answer to that…” Instead of finishing his sentence, he gestured towards the gate.  
  
“Concerning.”  
  
Nemo nodded. Very concerning.


	7. Curiouser and Curiouser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No answers, just more questions.

Entry: March 10th, year 384 of the City Age  
  
Whatever was on the other side of the gate, it was long gone when we got there. That was perhaps why the Vex were indifferent to us being there, but it was more than that. It felt like we were shepherded there, like we were meant to see that it was empty. I still don’t understand why.  
  
The chamber on the far side of the gate was pitch black and abysmally cold. I’ve been exposed to the blackness of space- this felt close. It wasn’t space, though. Even in the deepest voids, there was starlight to be seen. We were standing on rock. It was unfinished, untouched by Vex processes.  
  
In the few seconds it took our Ghosts to shine their lights and Vister to start up a small lamp, the ground rumbled and shook. It felt like an earthquake, and we could hear rocks falling around us, but it didn’t last more than a few seconds. Luckily no one was hit by falling debris.  
  
The initial chamber was massive, stretching well overhead to easily several stories. It gaped away from us into darkness, which the light from out Ghosts could not touch. As we explored, we found several offshoot passages leading to similarly sized chambers. Those offshoots led to others, and we soon concluded that, while it was a truly massive complex, dwarfing any other cave system known to humanity, it was entirely enclosed. The gate we came through was the only way in or out. We were relieved to see that it was still active when we returned to the original chamber.  
  
I showed Vister some bones I found. Some were quite large, others, evidently of the same kind, were smaller- children, Vister said. They weren’t part of the rock around them, so he didn’t think they were fossilized. Instead, he thinks that these creatures lived and died here. That there are the bones of offspring makes me very sad, though I still am not sure what kind of creatures they were.  
  
It doesn’t make sense for Vex to corral organic lifeforms and protect them from humanity- Vex are the enemies of all organics. Vister agrees, but after a thorough search, we found no evidence of anything else ever having been here.  
  
While we stood there debating this, the gate made some horrible noise, and Vex started pouring through. It ended up being very much the fight Hyla had been promised, which seemed to make her happy. She was able to put up a ward around her and Vister, into which Gypsy and I could retreat when needed. It was a rough fight, but we prevailed.  
  
At the end, there was a single Hydra remaining. I had seen it a few times during the fight, but since it wasn’t actively shooting at me, I had passed it over for other targets. It seems Gypsy and Hyla had had the same though. Once the chaos settled, we noticed that it looked...off.  
  
Hydras are these floating surveillance and patrol platforms. Their shape is utterly unlike any other frame, the large majority of whom are at least bipedal. They do share the same coppery plating, glowing lights, and fluidform inner workings. This one barely had even that. The plating was patched and scarred, like someone had tried to repair it with parts from other Hydras. Even after its comrades were dead, it made no move to attack us.  
  
I asked Gypsy and Hyla to keep their guns trained on it, but I had a hunch. I walked towards it, and it began to speak. It was not a sound I was used to. It wasn’t a mechanical voice like an exo, it was...hard to understand. It was like someone was strumming a wire, then adjusting its tension to change pitch. It was simulating speech that was normally made using organs it didn’t have. I’m not even sure the sound was coming from anything we would recognize as a speaker. It came from deep inside the machine, and certain sounds seemed to cause the whole fram to vibrate. Every long “o” sound was drawn out as it struggled with the vibration.  
  
The fact that it was talking to me wasn’t half so shocking as what it said. The conversation is burned into my memory.  
  
“It is appropriate that you are here, you who wield that which we cannot simulate.”  
  
“Appropriate?”  
  
“Yes. You were here at the beginning. You who first found the key. You...are not as you were, but this might be more accurate.”  
  
“You mean me personally? Yes, I found the key in the ruins-”  
  
“No. At the start. Before the tyrant scattered your simulations. That you found it again is no accident. Perhaps the Traveler has a sense of humor.”  
  
My head spun. I had no idea what this thing meant, but I wanted to try and get some useful information out of it.  
  
“What was being kept in here?”  
  
“A great sin from your past. We hid them where you could never find them.”  
  
“Where are we?”  
  
“Triton. But it is...now….as you see it. They are not here any longer.”  
  
“But we found them. Or at least we found this place.”  
  
“And they are not here. You cannot reach them where they are.”  
  
“You moved them?”  
  
“No.”  
  
It was getting worse.  
  
“Why lead us here?”  
  
“To show you your sin. How you proceed from here will determine the survival of your kind.”  
  
“A warning? Why?”  
  
“This one...was not always Vex. This one is a simulation of patterns observed on Nessus. Those patterns cause this one to deviate. This one does not know if you deserve to survive, but those patterns would not allow this one to not act.”  
  
“None of this makes sense! What was here?”  
  
“The patterns do not know the name. This one cannot put Vex thought into words, and would not. This one is now Vex. This one communicates in the language humanity speaks best- violence. This one is forced to act, not to speak.”  
  
“That’s not helpful.”  
  
“This one does not wish to help.”  
  
With that parting shot, it vanished through the gate. The ground rumbled again, longer. We could hear rocks falling throughout the complex.  
  
Carrix said that the rock around us did match the mineral composition of Triton, which is Neptune’s largest moon, though without seeing the sky, he could not triangulate our position. We were deep into the Darkness, which if nothing else, explained why our Ghosts could not light very far. I helped Vister collect a few bones, keeping a small skull for myself. He said he has some theories, but will not say more until we get back to the City. He looks at me oddly, now, which bothers me more than it should.  
  
We were able to take the gate back to Venus, and had no trouble getting back to Kiehl’s ship. We are on our way to the City now. I need to speak to Arthus.

  


“At no point did it occur to you to consult me on this?” Arthus had listened silently to the whole tale. Nemo had done as she was asked- she had seen what was inside the chamber, and was reporting on her task. This was his first question to her. It put her on the defensive.  
  
“No, because I fulfilled the task you set me. I had to take several extra steps, one of which was rescuing another Guardian- and thank the Traveler, since neither of us knew the other one was looking into this, but I returned as soon as the task was completed.” She hated sounding like a petulant teenager, but this was what Arthus brought out in her.  
  
“The appearance of unique Vex artifacts and their odd behavior was not a clue that you should seek guidance? At the very least notify me so the Vanguard could be apprised of this odd behavior?”  
  
Nemo didn’t really have a response for that. There was no excuse or reason for it. It simply hadn’t occurred to her.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Instead, you enlisted the help of other Guardians, nearly abducted a Cryptarch, and found yourself farther beyond the Tower’s reach than any Guardian before you. In the process, you lead that team into danger with you.”  
  
“Vister volunteered. For the rest, we’re all still alive.”  
  
To Nemo’s surprise, Arthus smiled.  
  
“Indeed they are. Well done.”  
  
“I’m sorry- what?”  
  
“The Vex oddness was not a part of the task- we really did need to see what was in the chamber, as we had no idea. But the rest- I have been trying to get you to reach out and form those connections that will ground you in the City, in your new life. Vister Tam is relatively young, that is a connection that will serve you for some time. And you have your fireteam.”  
  
“I doubt that. Hyla made it fairly clear she did not want to see me again.”  
  
“I will speak to Lord Shaxx about her. She took your orders well, that can be hard to find. There is potential there, do not give up so easily. What about Gypsy-3?”  
  
“She...seemed favorable to working together again.”  
  
Arthus laughed.  
  
“Fast friends, then. I will send your report to the Vanguard, they will assign someone with more experience to pursue the matter. For now, I have something else to teach you.”  
  
“With respect, Arthus, I don’t think another Guardian will be able to pursue it.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“I don’t think that Vex would have spoken to anyone else. It sounded like it recognized me. Whatever happened in that cave is centered on me.”  
  
“You said it yourself, it was damaged, and badly repaired.”  
  
“And the patterns from Nessus? What is Nessus?”  
  
“One of our colony ships, the Exodus Black, crash landed on a centaur during the Collapse- a centaur is just a lump of rock and ice, somewhere between an asteroid and a dwarf planet. This one was named Nessus. The Vex have nearly transformed it into one of their engines. They likely encountered some survivors there. But that was centuries ago, those patterns have long since degraded.”  
  
Nemo wanted to press further, but she felt that same finality that Arthus used when the conversation was over. There was no more debate.


	8. The Storm Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthus is so pleased with Nemo's work, he begins the next phase of her training.

She stood alone at the peak of a mountain. Her footing was unsure with pebbles and ice cracking and rolling away. Just inches from her toes, the mountain plummeted for miles, down past where trees grew, into green valleys tinged blue with distance far below. From somewhere below her on the mountain a silvery stream broke free of the forest and spilled lazily through the pastures. To either side, smaller peaks rolled away past the horizon. There was nowhere higher that she could see. Where she was standing the sun shone hot on her back, but she could feel cold nipping at her nose.  
  
Her focus was tuned to the boiling clouds before her. She could see where the sun still fell on the pastures, and if she stretched, she could even hear the creak of wagons, the chants of harvesters, and the lowing of cattle. They labored in earnest, for they too could see the gathering front that slowly advanced on her mountain. On the edges, the clouds turned from white to gray to greenish black, and the lands under it were dark as night. In the heart of the storm, she could see a black void filled with glittering stars. The void, at it edges, gave way to rainbow colored gases that blended into the white.  
  
Sparks began to shoot among the clouds, bouncing from thunderhead to thunder head, and when the storm could hold them no longer, they spilled forth in unmitigated fury. The storm cared nothing for the lives below it, and struck without mercy and without discernment. It struck with lightning and wind, ripping apart homes and fields and it advanced without resistance towards the mountain.  
  
She could hear his voice.  
  
“The farmers in their fields love the sun, for it warms their bones, feeds their crops, and dries their tears. But you now know all too well the force hidden in its friendly face. You have lived as a conduit for that fury, and seen the destruction a single star can wreak.  
  
“With less love, the farmers too need the storm. It waters their crops, washes their faces, and hides their tears. Without the storm, there is no life. The storm is renewal and revitalisation. The spark in a cloud that rains death on the ground is the same spark that races along our brains and hearts, raining life on an indifferent universe.  
  
“You have mastered the void, and surrendered to the sun. You, warlock, stand now between the two. You are that storm. Master your will, guide your hand, and let havok fall around you. The power in you will arc from you with equal ferocity. Your foes will remember when they cowered from rain in fear of what came with it. Your foes will hear your footsteps like raindrops, and fear your outstretched arm as a lightning strike, and hear your words in thunder.  
  
“To call the storm, you must master yourself and find peace within with one hand, and in the other, surrender to the elements and rain chaos without.”  
  
She stood on the edge of a knife, winds buffeting her from both sides, threatening her demise.  
  
“Balance is the path to mastery. Stand on the edge that cuts both ways, and know that the power you wield could undo you if you fall.”  
  
She was the hammer in her gun, and she felt the tension ripple through her as the trigger pressed against her release. The moment before the blast, stretched out forever.  
  
“Poise is the key to balance. You are forever caught in this span, solid steel ready to strike. One being, one mind, on the precipice of rage.”  
  
She closed her eyes. Her place in this madness was a distraction. She steadied her breath, counting each in threes- in for three, hold for three, out for three. She felt serenity flood through her limbs, and she felt her hands cease their shaking. She was a conduit for a force that both created life and ended it. Whatever it gave her, she must allow to pass through her unimpeded.  
  
She opened her eyes, and she now hovered in the void at the heart of the storm. Blazing arcs crisscrossed the space around her, lancing out and striking the clouds at the edge of the storm. From those clouds, the light shot forth, ripping the ground and tearing life from limb.  
  
She had to surrender to the power that would come, but could not surrender to its will. She was both servant and master.  
  
The strike, when it came, still caught her unprepared. The white-hot eagerness shot through her, and for just a moment she recoiled. She could feel it tearing at her insides.  
  
Another voice, masculine but not his, came to her out of the incandescent darkness.  
  
_Give it somewhere to go. ___  
  
She remembered the knife and the gun, and willed herself into one being. Raising her arm, the power crackled at her fingertips. She couldn’t control this power, but she could guide it. From her hands the lightning flowed, and she drew the power away from the farms. Not into herself, but into the forest on the mountain. It was old and ill, and fire would do it good. She could spare the lives of the farmers, but it would cost others. In the end, years from now, life would rebound. She was death incarnate.  
  
Shutting away the fields and the burning forest, she opened her eyes on the world around her. She stood alone on the roof of a skyscraper in a quarter of the City abandoned since the Red War. Above her she could hear the rumbling of thunder even though the sun shone brightly, low enough to light the City under the Traveler. Around her on the roof stoof piles of scrap, assembled debris and broken frames that vaguely imitated the enemies of humanity- Vex, Hive, Fallen, and Cabal. She was a conduit for Light, with Darkness arrayed before her.  
  
She steeled herself again, and this time when the power struck, she didn’t flinch. She acknowledged its passing, and rose her arms. Out of a blue sky a burning bolt filled her with light, and the few dummies closest to her were blown away by the blast. The force of the lightning lifted her off the ground, and it poured out of her fingertips, blasting away he dummies wherever she pointed. From those dummies the lightning arced, blasting still others.  
  
As she willed it, the power propelled her forward, now ignoring the ground beneath her feet. She searched the rooftops for the remaining dummies, and before long she had scoured the roof of the offending detritus.  
  
Suddenly Nemo felt very, very tired. The last of the lightning coursed out of her fingertips, and she came to rest, nearly stumbling as the weight returned to her legs.  
  
From the shadows Arthus strode, clapping softly.  
  
“Well done, my student. Or should I say, Stormcaller.”

  


____

The next few days consisted of Nemo running circles around other Guardians. The lightning she had channeled had left traces of vigor running through her blood, and she couldn’t remember feeling this good. Nemo now understood why Voidwalkers were known as dour, and Sunsingers as angry- it was the nature of the power they wrought. The arcing storm inside her was dangerous, yes, but it was also violent, unabashed, relentless life, and she radiated life around her.  
  
On the rare occasions Arthus could pin her down for a few minutes of reflection, he asked about her thoughts. How had this lesson changed her thinking?  
  
At first, she didn’t really think it had. But one afternoon, she found herself wandering around the Cryptarchy simply for something to do, something to release the energy inside her.  
  
Vister was still out of his office, but this time the young girl at the desk didn’t know where he was. She seemed very put out by it, and suddenly Nemo understood. This girl was sweet on Vister, and dedicated all of her spare energy to thoughts of him.  
  
In the past, she would have been disgusted, but in truth? Vister was attractive- she could hardly blame the girl, who was still young enough to be unable to distinguish between hormones and thought. It was the way of the world. And suddenly Nemo felt acceptance. Not external validation, but merely a great release of effort.  
  
When she spoke to Arthus next, she explained this to him.  
  
“The Universe was here aeons before us, and will be here aeons after us. Whatever great struggle we find ourselves in between the Light and the Darkness, and however long that struggle goes on, we- human, exo, and awoken- are temporary. Transient. A blip of time among uncounted blips.”  
  
“This doesn’t upset you?”  
  
“Perhaps in the past it would have. But it helps to remember that at our core, we are still bound to the will of the Universe- it is in our nature to struggle to exist until our dying breath. Our transience doesn’t make us insignificant.” A light bulb came on in Nemo’s brain.  
  
“In fact, it means the opposite. Of all the races extinguished by the Hive, and all the worlds transformed by the Vex, we are here. On Earth, now. WIth the Traveler to aid us. Against the backdrop of eternity, every struggle is of the utmost importance.  
  
“And I, among all the hundreds of billions of humans that have lived, have gotten a second chance to struggle.  
  
“The Universe will continue as it does, and I cannot stop it. I can only choose my course. Peace within, a storm without.”  
  
Arthus gave a hearty laugh. The arc light sparkled in his bright blue eyes. She remembered that this was his path as well, and wondered if his hands-off approach was his way of simply letting her be. Guiding her, instead of controlling or abandoning her.  
  
“It is good to see you embrace this path so thoroughly. Some warlocks are shown this path and choose to turn aside, and some never manage to walk it. On it, you have found the beginning of a home.”  
  
Nemo, for once, shared his smile. This, she remembered, was at least in part what home felt like. She had never before felt it in this life, but she recognized it all the same.


	9. Ill News Is An Ill Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tower is rocked by the death of a loved one, but Nemo faces her own turmoil.

Entry: April 3rd, year 384 of the City Age  
  
Cayde is dead.  
  
It is a struggle for me to comprehend what that means. Death...is something Guardians take for granted. We stop caring about it for a while. It, like everything else we are, is temporary.  
  
I should clarify. A Guardian (the same who defeated Ghaul) returned from the Reef with Cayde’s corpse. Killed by minions of the Awoken Queen’s brother. His ghost had been destroyed, and he was overwhelmed.  
  
Cayde was...reckless. You might say irresponsible, but… Gypsy, as a Hunter and exo, felt very close to him. He expected more of you than you thought possible, but he was always right. The best part was he was always as excited as you were when you succeeded. The Hunters couldn’t have asked for a better and more passionate cheerleader. He cared little for his work in the Vanguard, but he was, by all accounts, deeply devoted to his order.  
  
I am sad I didn’t know him better.  
  
We got the news last night, and Gypsy and I spent the night together, unable to sleep. She told me stories about him, stringing together long, complex, dancing sentences of astounding beauty- she has the soul of a poet, though she rarely shows it. Carrix stayed close, even materializing so I could hold on to him, feel his weight and remember that he was still there.  
  
And the Tower will do nothing. The Guardian who had brought him back of course took off with a totally different agenda, but the Vanguard was clear- there will be no retribution. Even if it was Uldren Sov, little had been heard from him since will before I was risen. This...there are few males in Awoken society, and they are cherished. He couldn’t take the throne in Mara’s wake. This was the action of a rogue entity, and pursuing him now would weaken the City further.  
  
Ikora was right, though. She doesn’t think we heard, but when the Warlock Vanguard and the Titan Vanguard clash, it’s difficult to keep secrets. Ikora was right. Zavala is a coward.  
  
Cayde was not our father- more like a favorite uncle, I guess. But the Tower is supposed to be our family, and they have struck us to our core. I can only imagine what Gypsy is feeling right now. Kerala and Arthus have both checked in to make sure we weren’t going rogue. The Reef is a long way from here, and not even Hyla remembers her life there. It’s strange, alien, foreign, and evidently quite lethal. If the Tower were to mount a response, I would go in a heartbeat. But I couldn’t do it alone, or even with Hyla and Gypsy at my side. As much as it kills us, we’re staying put.  
  
Best to put our mind to other matters, Arthus said. Grief is a process, he says, and it avails you nothing to dwell on it, however tempting it might be. Don’t hide from it, but don’t wallow in it.  
  
There is still the mystery of that chamber, besides. And since the Queen’s Wrath has opened the Reef to Guardians to help bring order (I should have mentioned- Uldren killed Cayde in a prison break. When the riot kills the warden...the Reef is in serious trouble), there are fewer Guardians here, which means there is no one to take over this mission. Maybe I can figure out what the Hydra meant by, well, all of it. Vister, thankfully, has agreed to help.

  


“Some things are fairly obvious.” Vister set down the transcript Nemo had made of the conversation with the Hydra. He had been there, but her memory was better.  
  
“Like what?” Nemo once again found herself in the Adjunct’s office, once again seated across from him while Gypsy, and now Hyla, loomed from the corners.  
  
“The tyrant. That was what they called Rasputin, even before the Collapse. All the other Warminds they built ended up serving him once they all got connected. I don’t know if that was intentional, or something Rasputin did on his own, but he controlled all of them. The Tyrant was a popular nickname for him after that.”  
  
“They couldn’t stop him?” Hyla sounded appalled.  
  
“Well, that assumes they didn’t do it on purpose. If that’s the case, I doubt they could have. Literally every layer of defense we had was routed through him. We were at his mercy.”  
  
“What else is obvious?”  
  
“We know why they couldn’t simulate the key. The Light.”  
  
“The Vex, though powerful, are strictly cause-and-effect.”  
  
“Precisely. The Light, as a paracausal force, operates outside that mindset. That also explains why they haven’t overwhelmed us yet. They can’t predict anything Guardians will do. Me, however, they nailed.”  
  
“I would have done the same in your shoes, Vister.”  
  
“Try saying that after finding out its been prophesied.”  
  
“Anything else?”  
  
“It recognized you. Somehow. It said you were there at the start.”  
  
“But it can’t simulate me.”  
  
“That what I mean- it knew you because you were there before you were a Guardian. It couldn’t have predicted your actions now, but you were fully part of the simulation then.”  
  
Cold washed over Nemo as the realization blossomed in her mind. This was somehow the key to her past. Dozens of questions bombarded the Warlock’s mind, but Vister wouldn’t know the answers to any of them. She asked the one she thought he might be able to.  
  
“What sin was it referring to, then?”  
  
“That I don’t know. It’s possible that it was using two different tenses of ‘you,’ but without knowing more about your past- are you okay?”  
  
Nemo was shaking.  
  
“No, Vister, I’m not. I…”  
  
“Nemo, you’re my friend. Tell me what’s on your mind.”  
  
She took a deep breath.  
  
“I didn’t chase the Fallen into that lab. I found them there. I was looking for my past.”  
  
Hyla gave a delighted chuckle. It was taboo, after all. If Gypsy had a response, it wasn’t visible. Vister was quiet for a moment, then spoke.  
  
“Maybe you should tell me more about that. For the record, I’m not angry that you lied to me. You couldn’t have known the significance then.”  
  
Slowly, Nemo began recounting her first hours on Venus, from the diner to the basement closet to the lab, and finally the fight with the Fallen. It didn’t take as long as she expected. Vister took a few moments to pour himself a cup of coffee before responding.  
  
“So this...familiarity you felt in the lab- was it-”  
  
“I assume it was a place I’d spent a lot of time. Even as I was entering the building, my instincts told me to go up the stairs as I had always done, even though Carrix found me in the basement.”  
  
“I’m guessing I would feel the same about this office if I were in your shoes. You actually worked in the Ishtar Collective.” He sounded amazed.  
  
“That’s my assumption.”  
  
“Well, no wonder you became a Warlock, then. But that means good news.”  
  
“How so?”  
  
“Those records I mentioned at the curry shop included a list of names attached to it. Yours is likely on it- if you were on this project in the beginning, as the Vex seemed to indicate. See if something comes to you.” Vister punched up a document for Nemo to review. She scanned it for several minutes, playing each one over and over in her mind, letting it play on her tongue, hoping with all she had that one of them would sound like her.  
  
“There’s… It’s not here. There are two of them that give the same kind of familiar feeling, but none of them sound like me.”  
  
“Which ones are those?”  
  
“Isaiah Clarke and Mercedes Fonesca.”  
  
“It’s a start. I’ll run those through our archives, see if we can get anything. It won’t take long. Go get some dinner.”  
  
“Should we bring you something?”  
  
“That would be lovely.”

  


When the three Guardians returned, Vister sat motionless, staring at his screen with a look of great concern. Nemo set the bowl of curry down on his desk, causing the Cryptarch to jump in his seat.  
  
“Shit, I didn’t hear you come in. Is that for me?”  
  
“Yeah, are you ok? It’s not like we were quiet.” Nemo’s stomach fluttered. He had news, she could feel it.  
  
“Well. Um. Yes, I’m fine. But...I need to speak to you privately.”  
  
Hyla protested. “This is our mission too, Adjunct. You can’t just-” She was interrupted by Gypsy placing a hand on her arm.  
  
“Come. Not our business. Not the mission. She will tell us if she wants.” The Titan scowled, but followed the Hunter out, pulling the door shut only a little harder than necessary.  
  
“Is this about my past?” Nemo blurted the question before she could stop herself. It wasn’t likely about anything else, but her hands were shaking.  
  
“Very likely. The names you selected didn’t return anything other than the records you got them from. I started running a number of combinations of names to try and find anything.”  
  
“But you found something.” Nemo couldn’t hide her desperation anymore.  
  
“Only after trying the initials. I.C. and M. F.” Vister took a deep breath, but didn’t continue.  
  
Instinctively, Nemo reached a hand out across the desk to shake the Cryptarch, but stopped short of actually touching him.  
  
“Vister, please.”  
  
The Awoken let out a long breath before he said anything.  
  
“There was an image recovered from a recycled sparrow on Venus. For the longest time, we didn’t have any context for it- it was two people, smiling. The initials I.C. adn M. F. were flagged on it.” He slowly swung the screen around to where she could see it.  
  
In the photo, there were no signs of the rampant jungle overtaking the lush city of the Ishtar Collective. Nemo couldn’t identify any of the buildings in it, but the hue of the sky was proof enough. It was a bustling city at the height of its power, and in the background traffic seemed caught in blurs.  
  
In the foreground, seated on a bench in what appeared to be a park were two figures- a tall, dark-haired man with an easy smile wearing a long coat with the Ishtar insignia on the lapel. His eyes were smiling as well, and they were fixed on the figure next to him. She had her eyes shut in laughter, but the dark brown hair showed streaks of blue. There was something hauntingly familiar about the shape of her face- not like the office were Nemo presumed to have worked, but something more immediate. Something that reminded her of a dilapidated diner.  
  
“I know her.” Nemo was surprised to find her voice hitched, and she suddenly noticed that tears were streaming down her cheeks. Her nose was dribbling. “I’ve seen her.”  
  
Vister handed her a tissue. Nemo was no longer worried about appearing dignified, so she blew her nose heavily, punctuating the silence with loud honks.  
  
“Where have you seen her?”  
  
“In the diner, before I found the lab. I caught just a glimpse of her in a doorway. Carrix told me it was all in my head.”  
  
“Probably a repressed memory. That, we can assume, was Mercedes.”  
  
“Is that…” Nemo’s voice hitched again, and she silently gestured to herself instead.  
  
“Nemo, she looks nothing like you. Why would you remember your own face in a doorway?”  
  
“But I don’t recognize the man at all. Is this Isaiah?”  
  
“That might be a safe assumption, but I think its odd you don’t recognize him. I do.”  
  
“What?!”  
  
“Nemo, he looks just like you. I might even go so far as to say an identical twin.”  
  
“Do we know anything else about Isaiah? Do we know his sister’s name?”  
  
“No, Nemo. I’m sorry. There’s nothing.”  
  
Nemo buried her face in her hands and let the sudders pass through her in silence. Her answers were incomplete, but it was far more than she had had before. She knew her name was Clarke. She had been real. She had lived. She was well and truly human.  
  
“I understand this is heavy news, Nemo. I’ll give you a minute.”  
  
She nodded silently. Vister grabbed the bowl of curry from his desk and left. After a moment, she tilted her head back so she could see the image hovering over Vister’s desk. A brother, for sure. Now that Vister had pointed it out, she could see it, though she had to admit it tarnished her first impression of him. Not so handsome as he’d seemed before. But that was proper for a brother, wasn’t it?  
  
But who was Mercedes to her? It was clear the man was deeply in love with her. Had she been as well? Is that why her face appeared in shadows? It seemed reasonable. Her own taste ran strongly towards women, though not exclusively.  
  
“Um, Nemo?” The voice of her Ghost startled her. It was amazing how someone could be so in her head and still surprise her. Nemo didn’t bother to wipe her tears away. She had no shame in front of him.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“I...have a confession to make. And an apology, perhaps.”  
  
“For what?”  
  
“I need to tell you a little more about how I found you. I didn’t mention it before because I couldn’t imagine how it would be relevant, but maybe I should have.  
  
“Carrix- wh-”  
  
“Please, just let me get this out. When a Ghost finds their Guardian, we have to scan them to know what to build. This means that we typically need a fairly intact skeleton with a good amount of bone marrow. Something that tells us who you are and what we’re working with. We can make some edits to eliminate harmful genes like recessive conditions or a predilection to cancer, but generally, it is suggested that we make as few as possible. I don’t know if that was the Traveler’s command, or just custom.”  
  
Nemo waited. She had a gnawing suspicion, but she had agreed to let the Ghost speak.  
  
“When I found you, I was tempted to move on. Your sequence...it was a mess. You had a whole extra chromosome. Typically men are XY and women are XX. You scanned as XXY- which, depending on other factors, can present as male or female.”  
  
“Carrix, did you-”  
  
“Yes. I had to choose- preserve as much of the original sequence as possible, or make you effective. Most of the deleterious factors were on your Y chromosome. I imagine your father died young, and not pleasantly. So...I excised it. Completely.”  
  
“So when you first resurrected me…”  
  
“You came out female.”  
  
Nemo turned to look at the Ghost. He hovered silently for a moment, bobbing nervously.  
  
“Then-”  
  
“I think that is you in the picture, Nemo. I think you are Isaiah.”


	10. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stunned by the Carrix's admission, Nemo searches for answers, and finds them.

Entry: April 10th, year 384 of the City Age.  
I figure my betrayal can’t get much worse at this point, so I decided to go ahead and look through Nemo’s entries.  
  
I’m leaving this here for her to read, which I hope she does someday. This is Carrix recording his own thoughts and feelings. I thought that since journaling brought Nemo so much peace, I would try it, though in honesty i’m not really writing this, not like she does. Or did.  
  
Nemo, I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t mean much right now, but maybe if I say it enough times…  
  
I know I made the right choice. Not about...your genes, but about you. There are stories among the Ghosts that have yet to find their own Guardians, about weird and unexpected situations when it comes to resurrection. I don’t know that it’s as simple as “one Ghost, destined for one Guardian for the rest of time.”  
  
It’s more like...you have a rough idea of what you want, but you can’t articulate it. You don’t even know how rough that idea is. It’s just like a hole in you, deep inside, and you search for something to fill it. Something wonderful to devote your entire existence to.  
  
When I first saw you in the basement hall on Venus, I knew it was you. Not because we were destined for each other. I saw someone who had clearly given themselves to others, whether you knew them or not- that they were alive was enough for you to give your life for them.  
  
There are three things the Traveler wants us to look for: devotion, sacrifice, and death. I saw only your dessicated bones wrapped around a weapon, with other bodies nearby, your story was clear. You devoted yourself to one pursuit. You sacrificed yourself for others, even unto your own end. It is what makes Guardians who they are- that and nothing else.  
  
You may have heard stories about some no-so-nice Guardians in our past, and largely they’re true. I can make no excuses for their behavior. I can only say that at some point, they showed us what we were looking for. I say that like there are clear instructions handed to us by the Traveler on what Guardians are meant to do, but there aren’t. I don’t know if the Vanguard is any closer to what the Traveler envisioned than the Iron Lords, or the dark ages before them. But this feels better, and that’s all we Ghosts have to go by.  
  
It’s been seven days since you left. I don’t know where you are or what’s on your mind. Thankfully I have Aepho and Banquo to keep me company, but I’m still stunned. I didn’t know Guardians could wall off their Ghosts this way. It kills me inside thinking about what might happen to you while I’m not there. Is there still enough Light in you to help you fight- to keep you alive? If you die, will I be able to resurrect you? Will you want me to?  
  
I wish I could say I could just redo your resurrection and bam, suddenly you’re Isaiah again, but I can’t. I don’t have your original sequence anywhere. When I removed the Y chromosome, I removed it entirely. You don’t even have it anymore. That data no longer exists.  
  
I don’t even really know how you feel about this. Shocked, I’m sure, but are you actually angry with me? I can’t tell. I assume you are, because I think I would be, though Ghosts don’t actually have sexes the way you do, so how the hell would I know?  
  
Maybe, in the spirit of a peace offering, I can answer some of your questions. You mention declarative memory and the weird kind of amnesia that affects all Guardians. The best way I can put it is that all Ghosts share the same non-declarative memory. All of the basics like speaking, trans-matting, resurrection, even down to what we are looking for in a Guardian, is all already present from the moment we come into being. Nobody teaches us how to be Ghosts, and so your analogy to Arthus’ Ghost (whose name is Tallis, by the way) doesn’t really apply. As for friendship, I would not say Tallis and I are close. He does have more experience in working with a Guardian, though, since Arthus is much older than you, so he does from time to time have some pointers for me. But we do not have the camaraderie that I have with Aepho or Banquo. I guess you could call these two my friends. They have been kind to me since you left, if that’s what being a friend means. We are not, as a whole, given to romance. We have no urge to reproduce, so I suppose there wasn’t a point.  
  
What I’m trying to say is that we come into being fully formed, like a vessel cast in one piece from molten metal. We are somehow at the same time already filled with Light, and we are only seeking another vessel to fill, as though our only purpose is to serve as a bucket between you and the Traveler.  
  
Do we have emotions before we are linked to a Guardian? It is hard to say, since there is little enough to care about until then. We cannot do anything about anything until we have found them. We know fear, I suppose, like I feared the Vex that drove me to you, but that seems like animal instinct to me. I don’t know if that counts.  
  
When I found you, it was like a revelation, like suddenly the world had color and sound and taste and breezes- I mean that metaphorically; nothing actually changed within my sensors. So I guess the best you could say is that all of a sudden, everything mattered. I cared about things. I don’t know if I had emotions before I met you, but either you gave them to me, or you made them relevant in a way they never had been before.  
  
I still feel those things, so I assume we’re still linked, wherever you are. But nothing- none of it, no matter how beautiful the sunset, or matter how dire or precarious the trouble in the City is, none of it matters as much as you. Maybe that’s love. Maybe it’s just the way I was programmed. I can’t tell.  
  
I miss you. I’m sorry. Please come home.

Nemo sat perched on top of a pile of rubble in her old lab on Venus. It wasn’t any less destroyed than she had last seen it, but she couldn’t think of anywhere left to go. This place was still the strongest link she had to her past. It seemed appropriate that it was in ruins.  
  
Her head spun. There were too many thoughts twisting in her mind for her to tell reliably what she was feeling. Was she angry? Who was she angry with? Perhaps part of her felt like she should be angry, in light of what Carrix had told her, but somehow, she didn’t think she was.  
  
It was a decision that had been made. It was in the past. It wasn’t like Carrix could go back and un-delete her genome. Did she have any objections to her new life? Not that she could think of. One of the graces of the Traveler was that female Guardians were spared the trouble of menstruating (though that didn’t really prevent them from getting pregnant. Nemo had been extremely careful in that regard, but others hadn’t. Just another question that would be posed to the Traveler if they ever were able to speak to It again.) so it wasn’t as if she felt any more pain or discomfort than she would have in her old life.  
  
In fact, it sounded like Carrix had saved her even more trouble with his choice. All Guardians were resurrected in perfect health, he said, but it never meant they stayed that way. There had been one Guardian with such a predisposition to cancer that he routinely died at least every five years just to reset his clock. She would never have that trouble.  
Carrix had said it was his choice to make her effective more than original. Nemo wasn’t a spare ship for Holliday to refit was needed, though. She was a person, whole and actual. Her body should have been her choice.  
  
But then she wasn’t really around to make that choice. What had Carrix been thinking? Alone, isolated, on the run from Vex- perhaps he had been panicked when he found her, and forced to decide without fully thinking about the consequences.  
  
It was a decision that had been made. It was in the past. It wasn’t truly Carrix’s fault, even though it wasn’t his doing. It couldn’t be undone.  
  
So what was this turmoil in her mind?  
  
_What ails you, o bearer mine? ___  
  
The sudden voice in her mind, familiar but distant, startled the Guardian out of her reverie. She jolted, dropping the small skull she’d taken from Triton to the floor.  
  
“Who’s there?!” In the second heartbeat she as standing, gun in hand. Was the Light still with her without Carrix? Did she want it to be?  
  
This deep inside, even the winds that rustled the leaves of the Venusian jungles were blocked, and Nemo could only hear her own heartbeat.  
  
She’d heard the voice before, just once. It had come to her in her vision of the storm, and guided her in mastering the arc powers that flowed through her. It wasn’t her voice, nor was it her mentor’s. It was masculine, but still thin and reedy.  
  
Seconds passed while she stood still as a statue, weapon raised. There was no response. Slowly she lowered the hammer and returned the hand cannon to its holster. No one came forward, so where had the voice come from? Still paranoid, she kept her eyes on the doors as she squatted to pick up the skull and settled back on the rubble.  
  
It was such an odd skull- Nemo couldn’t fathom was sort of creature it might belong to. Surely no beast like this had ever lived on Earth. There was something reptilian about its aspect, and its jaws were lined with teeth that still kept their edge. It sported two long horns that twisted away form the eyes, sweeping back almost like antlers.  
  
“What were you? Where did you go? And why did the Vex keep you in that cave?”  
  
_I am the ghost of mankind’s deception, of dreams fulfilled and promises broken, o bearer mine. ___  
  
Nemo was startled again, but at least this time she managed to hold on to the skull. She peered into the inky depths of its eye sockets.  
  
“Is that you? Are you the one speaking?”  
  
_After a fashion, I suppose. Though even I am a mere shadow of him whose bones you clutch. ___  
  
“How...is this possible?”  
  
_It is your desire that brought me to you. First to survive, to master the arc powers offered to you, and now for answers. The wish for impossible or improbable things is what sustained my people. ___  
  
“I wished you into being?”  
  
_Simply put, yes. You sit here today with trouble in your heart. I would salve your suffering, if you but knew what you wanted. ___  
  
“But what are you?”  
  
_We have been called dragon, wish-master, and demon. We have been reviled and exalted in equal measure. We are called Ahamkara, but you may call me Ormoth. ___  
“Hold on, you lost me at dragon.”  
  
_Let me tell you a story. ___  
  
Ormoth, as the creature called himself, spun a tale of tragedy and woe for Nemo’s ready ears. He spoke of the quiet days before the Traveler came, and the mild interest with which they watched the nascent, tremulous monkeys of the inner system. They watched with interest as the infant creatures finally found the means to leave their world behind, and counted the breaths before they made the leap to another planet.  
  
From there, things began to sour. An interloper from beyond the heliopause found its way to the rocky worlds of the system and began...changing them. It was unlike anything the Ahamkara had ever seen- the Traveler, as it called itself, was possessed of such a power that be weight of its own desire it could alter the laws by which the system ran. The Ahamkara could alter the world around them, but for them it was as though they were pressing on rubber- as soon as their attention wavered, the world-as-is would reassert itself. Not so with this Traveler.  
  
For the Traveler, it was as though it was capable of fundamentally rewriting the laws around which matter and energy moved and operated. Everywhere it passed, there was a great, blinding weal in the world-as-is where it became the world-as-decided.  
  
Then it met the humans. Just as these amusing little simians were stretching their own wings and glimpsing the barest hint that the Ahamkara awaited them, the Traveler pounced on them. Taking them under his wings like some exotic pet, he changed them as he changed the worlds around them. They lived longer, died less, knew more and traveled farther. Soon they flooded the system and even the moons of the outer giants soon hummed with the buzzing of a false human society.  
  
For a time, it was enough for the Ahamkara to retreat from where the humans trod. They found that where the Traveler’s Light fell, their own powers were...truncated. So they avoided mankind as best they could.  
  
But in less than a generation, another force invaded the heliopause, seemingly on the heels of the Traveler. It ignored the Ahamkara entirely, focused on hunting the Traveler down in pursuit of some unknown grudge.  
  
This would have brought the Ahamkara joy, but for the fact that this force too had an undesirable effect on the dragons. Rather than interrupting their powers, this new power, which came to be known only as the Darkness, for it gave no name for itself, did far worse. It ripped the world-as-imagined from the grasp of the Ahamkara and enforced it upon them. Within the shadowy reflections of their own works, the dragons saw an impossible finality- a universe utterly unified in purpose and thought.  
  
From this power, too, the dragons retreated, finding themselves possessed of smaller and smaller corners of the system. The darkness did not trouble them further, to their relief, instead pursuing the Traveler with unholy fervor.  
  
For whatever reason, the Traveler did not run as it had before, instead turning to face the encroaching enemy. There was a titanic clash deep in the system, and the shock of which woke even the oldest dragons from their slumber. Only silence followed, and throughout the system settled a hideous detente.  
  
“Wait, you’re describing the Collapse! You watched it happen?”  
  
_Not I, o bearer mine. My ancestors watched in awe, though I carry their memories with me. ___  
  
“But your people were there! And they did nothing!”  
  
_My people were here as your planet cooled, and believed they would be here until the sun cooled. The perils of your kind were but blinks of an eye to us. Do you trouble yourself with the wars of ants? ___  
  
“But the Traveler- and the Darkness-”  
  
_Were both foreign powers, who had passed us by. We did not enjoy their presence, but we lacked the power to drive them out. They displayed no real interest in our kind. The creatures that came with the Darkness from beyond the system likewise did not intrude upon our patience, they being scarcely larger than you. May I continue, o bearer mine? ___  
  
“Fine. You said you were betrayed.”  
  
_And so we were. We knew that the light of your people had not been extinguished, though we no longer ventured forth to see what had become of you. ___  
  
Something happened to the Ahamkara that they had not expected. A small number of humans had been caught in the breakers where the waves of Light and Dark collided. Their lives were turmoil for more than a full breath of a dragon, but slowly they settled on a series of asteroids at the outer edge of what humans had once controlled. Ormoth confirmed that these were in fact the Awoken, answering a question that had also bothered Nemo.  
  
These new humans claimed no allegiance to Earth, though they seemed to want to help them. Born of starlight and shadow, they did not wish to join with the Traveler, but still battled the end that the Darkness plotted.  
  
A prince of the Awoken, as they called themselves, came before them, in search of power that arose from neither dark nor light. Initially they were hesitant to acknowledge his existence, but they soon found that this man had something the Ahamkara had lacked- desire. The force of his desire fed the Ahamkara and gave their powers a longevity they had never known. Was this common to all mankind, Awoken and otherwise? Was this a force that defied the primal forces? The Ahamkara hungered for it, and came forth. One of them agreed to travel with the prince to meet his queen. Others poured forth, finally encountering humans on Venus. These humans had changed- more so than the Traveler had changed them. It seemed something of the Traveler had passed into them, and even their own footsteps blazed with power, injuring the world as they walked.  
But they still felt desire, and that was enough for the Ahamkara. Many came before them, asking for boons both great and small, which the Ahamkara were all to happy to provide. It seemed as though the dragons had found their place in the system.  
  
But soon, sooner than the dragons believed possible, the humans returned under a flag of war, and with their world-as-is altering powers they could anchor the dragons to one form and slay them. They drove the dragons from Venus, from every inhabited world and even the uninhabited ones. In full retreat, each of them looked for refuge. The one who had gone with the prince desired to remain under the protection of the queen. The survivors of this purge, for the first time, knew fear, and for the first time entertained the idea that they might not get to watch the sun burn out. The humans were coming.  
  
But then yet another power arrived. This power was unlike any the dragons had ever known. It had no desires and no emotions of any kind, yet it had mastered worlds and realms even beyond the reckoning of the Ahamkara with raw logic. Enemies of both the Light and Dark, this new power cared for little but the increase of their own kind- a goal with which the Ahamkara sympathized.  
  
Some of his people, Ormoth claimed, had gone to this power in fear of the hunt. As beings of pure want, the Ahamkara wera as alien to the Vex as the Guardians, but the Ahamkara agreed to the protection of the Vex- in exchange for allowing the Vex to study them. There was no want in the Vex, so the Ahamkara found themselves diminished, but alive.  
  
“Hang on a minute.”  
  
_Yes? ___  
  
“You’re telling me this all happened after the Collapse, after the Tower.”  
  
_That is correct. ___  
  
“Then why was the gate there in the Golden Age? I’m the one who found it.”  
  
_The Vex vowed to take us where you could never find them. Had you managed to open the gate in the Golden Age, you might have found us. Now you are centuries too late, and our home on Triton is empty. ___  
  
“They hid you in the past?”  
  
_From your reference, yes. Somewhere Guardians can never go. ___  
  
“Then why are you telling me this? I’m supposed to be your enemy.”  
  
_I felt your sorrow when you first touched this skull. Your want for answers, for justice, drew me to you. Now I sense your want for answers, and your wavering faith in the Traveler. I tell you this to answer one specific question- it is right that you doubt the Traveler. ___  
  
“What answers do I want, then?”  
  
_Your mind is too turbulent. I cannot say. But once you decide, I would grant it to you happily. Your compassion for our plight moves me to grant this boon. ___  
  
“I, uh...thanks. I guess.”  
  
_I have a humble request, if I may. If it helps, think of it as an exchange for my boon, though the boon is yours even if you do not agree. ___  
  
“What could I offer you, un-dead wish-granting dragon?”  
  
The voice gave a soft chuckle. It sounded like the rumble of a predator.  
  
_I would very much like to see the City. ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did my best to align what I wanted to happen with this story with what we've learned in Forsaken, but any mistakes can again be blamed on unreliable narrators- this one has a canonical reputation for that.

**Author's Note:**

> I began this fic between Warmind and Forsaken. While I have tried to follow the lore as much as possible, there will be some deviations. I blame the fact that this Guardian is not THE Guardian, and was chosen just after the Red War. She's an unreliable narrator. If you choose to comment, I'm mostly looking for notes on characterization, plot pacing, and things like that.


End file.
